


Left Behind

by probably_somewhere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Agender Pidge | Katie Holt, BAMF Pidge | Katie Holt, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Galaxy Garrison, Origin Story, Pidge | Katie Holt-centric, Pre-Series, commander iverson is a jerk, eventually, mama holt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7742611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probably_somewhere/pseuds/probably_somewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katie Holt has to find her family.<br/>That's all there is to it, and she'll stop at nothing to get them back. But there's no way she'll go undercover at the Galaxy Garrison without a plan, and an extensive one at that. And with only two months to become another person entirely, Katie has a lot to learn--about the world and about herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back Then, It Had Been Winter

_It probably would have been better for security if they kept the lights on_ , Katie thinks, hunched over the keyboard. But it’s better for her that they aren’t.

Images flash across the screen. Reams of drone logs, pictures of space rocks, and encrypted emails slam against Katie’s irises so hard it makes her squint, but she won’t look away. She’s so close now. She can taste the truth like old coffee on her tongue--cold and bitter but necessary to make it through another day.

There have been hints, before. The flight program’s press releases were too vague, officers never willing to answer questions. “Pilot error” is all they ever said, and Katie grew to hate those words as much as she hated the resigned looks of pity she got every day from the people who thought they were being sympathetic by humoring her claims that something else had gone on. They think she is a distraught child, stuck in grieving.

They are wrong.

She scrolls through the data, and rather than seeing wreckage and the associated correspondence she finds… nothing. Videos show the Kerberos landing site as pristine, and all the surrounding areas are similarly devoid of destruction. She keeps going, spiraling out from the site in case they’d gone off course to crash. Still nothing.

Something yellow appears at the edge of one of the images. Katie hisses out a breath and zooms in on it, deftly manipulating the program to produce a clearer image. Her recognition comes in a delay, because she’s so surprised at what she sees.

Surely that’s not an ice drill. Those things take days to set up, because they have to be put together piece by piece and then anchored in place on the surface. If something went wrong with their landing, then it would be impossible for the drill to be out there. So that means--

The lights in the office flip on.

“Huh?” Katie stumbles away from the keyboard, temporarily blinded.

Commander Iverson’s single eye is filled with rage. “You again? Get off my computer!”

He crosses the room in three steps.

“You said the spacecraft went down due to pilot error,” Katie accuses, her own anger bubbling over. She spread her hands to the computers. “I saw the video feeds from your probes, there’s no evidence of a crash anywhere on Kerberos!”

Iverson is to her now, towering above her. “Those feeds are classified!” he snarls, and grabs her arm. His hand fits entirely around her arm, an iron vice grip that Katie couldn’t pry loose if she tried. She tries anyway. “I could charge you with _treason_ for hacking into them.”

He drags her to the door and throws her into the hall. Katie whirls on him. “Where is my family?” she demands, but Iverson talks over her.

“Escort Ms. Holt off the premises,” he commands of the nearest guard. Hands wrap around her arms again, this time settling uncomfortably under her armpits and dragging her shoulder blades together. “And make sure every guard knows she’s never allowed on Garrison property _ever_ again!”

Katie glares at Commander Iverson with total hatred as he turns away. “You can’t keep me out!” she promises. Her hands ball into fists. “I’ll find the truth, I’ll never stop!”  
Iverson retreats into his office without a backward glance.

The guard half-carries her down the hall. She kicks and fights, but his grip on her arms doesn’t loosen. “Let me _go_!” she demands.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” he says in a quiet, tired voice. “But I’m under orders. I can’t.”

She turns her head over her shoulder, making her side ponytail swing. “Then at least change your grip or _something_ before you tear my arms off.”

“Oh.” The guard releases one of her arms and moves to an overhand hold on the other. “Is that better?”

Katie can’t see the man’s face beneath his uniform helmet, but she knows he’s watching her closely to make sure she doesn’t try to attack him or escape. “Better.”

They walk toward the front gate.

“Miss, I’m not sure what you were doing in here that made the Commander so mad,” the guards says, walking slowly enough that she doesn’t have to take two steps for each of his. “But the Garrison is no place for little girls. You’ve got to stay away from here.”

Katie rolls her eyes. This man knows _nothing_.

They walk out the main doors and across the courtyard to the gate. It’s not dark out yet, but clouds are gathering. The guard nods to his comrade at the entrance, and the bars slither back into the walls.

Once they’re outside, the guard releases her. Katie rubs her sore arm.

“Do you need a ride home, Miss?” he asks.

“No,” she snaps. Her mother would have an aneurysm. “I need answers.”

The man’s posture shifts to one of defeat. “I’m sorry, Miss, but there’s nothing more I can do for you. Have a nice evening.”

The gate closes behind him.

Katie waits until she gets to her bike a quarter mile down the road to start crying. They’re tears of anger, of frustration, of guilt, of _loss_. None of it makes sense. What is the government hiding from the public? It’s more apparent than ever that the crash landing story was falsified. So what actually happened out there? What could have been so bad that they have to lie to everyone about it--even the crew’s own families?

Her bike tires crunch over gravel and pavement, kicking up dust and making her legs burn. Rain speckles the road around her, barely enough to darken the ground. She’s surprised at the precipitation, because rain is rare in a desert summer.

The memories drip into her head of another time it rained.

Back then, it had been winter. Rain was more common then but still not common enough to warrant the regular carrying of an umbrella. The officers that showed up at their door had been soaking wet.

They sent Katie upstairs while they talked to her mother. She knew something was wrong then, because she’d always been allowed to listen to Garrison news and mission updates. Many of the officer’s families had come over for dinner before. Then she heard the crying through the floorboards of her room and she’d known. One of them had come upstairs to talk to her, tell her what had happened, but it was only the last few lines of a connect-the-dots. She’d seen what the full picture was long before it was finished.

The officers had stayed for a few hours, making sure she and Mom were cared for. But later that night, when they were finally alone, Katie found her mom watching the news in the basement. Seeing those pictures of them, empty and smiling with the words “pilot error” now forever associated with them, left an itch in the back of Katie’s mind. She knew her brother and father too well, knew what they’d said about their pilot--Takashi Shirogane--too vividly to believe that any of them could have made a mistake that cost them their lives.

It took two more nights of Katie listening to her mother cry herself to sleep for Katie to begin her hunt for the truth. For the first few months, it was exhaustive internet searches, some basic hacking into the Garrison servers, and anything she could cram in around the edges of her schoolwork. But with the freedom of summer, her mission had gotten more intense and she’d found herself sneaking onto Garrison property half a dozen times--she’d been caught twice. Any answers she uncovered only raised more questions.

And now this.

She is wet with rain and sweat when she gets home forty minutes later. She parks her bike in the back of the house, fishes out her key and goes inside. Mom’s already asleep by now, so she climbs upstairs quietly. The pajamas stick to her skin like the images in her mind. It will be a long night of tossing and turning in the new information.

She needs to find the truth now more than ever.


	2. I'm Joining the Galaxy Garrison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katie turns in her application for the Galaxy Garrison.

Katie wakes up to the sound of her alarm like a hammer against her skull.

She groans, not for the first time thinking that it’s the universe’s curse that her alarm always seems to go off right as she finally drifts off to sleep. She dismisses the ringing from her phone and physically _rolls_ out of bed. Her limbs feel like rocks as she stumbles across the hallway into the bathroom. A shower at least helps to wake her up.

Her mom is at the table when Katie gets downstairs, hands wrapped around a coffee cup and a robe wrapped around her waist. Without the sound of the morning news to color the air, all is eerily quiet. She should be used to it by now, but Katie only sees it as a reminder of how long it has been in since Mom snapped. The press had hounded their broken family for weeks, her mom unable to leave the house without an interview request or camera flash. They’d mostly left Katie alone, but only because her mother had shielded her from them so totally. Katie watched from behind her mother’s protective arm as she crumbled under the weight of her own strength.

“Morning, Mom,” Katie says. Even now, with the attention long gone, there hasn’t been enough time to put herself back together. Katie doesn’t know how to help, so she doesn’t try for fear of making it worse. She watches the news alone on her laptop before bed most nights.

“Good morning, Katie.” Her mom takes a sip of coffee while Katie pours out her own. “Are you off to work?”

“Yeah.” She reaches into the refrigerator and grabs an apple for breakfast. Takes a big bite, chews, and swallows. “Do you have counseling today?”

Her mom picks at her fingernails, perfect everywhere Katie’s are chewed down and mangled. Even the woman’s bed head looks intentional--through it all, her outward appearance had remained immaculate. That is how she copes. “I do. And don’t forget about your appointment tomorrow. Mr. Hernandez doesn’t want to miss another meeting with you.”

“Okay.” Katie leans over the counter to make sure Pluto’s food bowl is full. It is, and the dog must still be asleep because Katie hasn’t seen her yet this morning.

“I put a peanut butter sandwich in your lunchbox, and a Thermos with milk. I wasn’t sure if you wanted chips or a brownie, but they’re in the cupboard if you do.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I’ll see you this evening.”

“See you.”

Katie collects her backpack from the hallway and puts her laptop and lunch inside, slinging it over her back as she exits the house. She tosses the apple core into the bushes for the wildlife. Her bike is still against the side of the house, and she pushes it to the front. She hikes a leg over the seat and pedals away.

It’s only a ten minute ride to the school administrative building, but in a blouse, mid-thigh skirt and leggings the morning heat leaves a sheen of sweat on her forehead. She’s grateful for the air conditioning that waits for her inside.

Pam looks up when Katie walks in. The front office smells pleasantly of coffee, and Katie fishes the travel mug out of her backpack and pours herself another cup. “Good morning, Katie. How are you?”

Katie stirs creamer into her mug. “Morning, Pam. I thought that you were getting Andrea to cover for you today?”

The secretary sighs. “Andrea called me at four A.M. this morning--both her kids have the flu. So here I am. Tim is taking the kids to the zoo today by himself.”

“Oh, man,” Katie says. “I’m sorry, Pam.”

“That’s just how the cookie crumbles,” the woman replies, but her smile is frayed at the edges. Katie takes a seat at her own desk and shakes the mouse to wake the computer screen. “I got an email from Mr. Ellerman, in the science department--he says to tell you what a wonderful job you did setting up the new machines in the lab. Apparently when he tried before, the computer programs kept crashing. But they work flawlessly now.”

“Good to hear.”

It’s a bit unconventional to have a fourteen year old working for the school system, Katie knows, but after she’d made such an impression on her computer science teacher last year and a summer job as a techie had opened up, there had been no question as to whether she deserved the position. But despite that, Katie has a sneaking suspicion that pity played a role in her employment. She ignores it and does her job. She’s already rewritten the school website and gradebook programs, and the intimate familiarity with that kind of tech made it almost easy to hack into the Garrison’s systems. The school district doesn’t know _half_ of her skill at a computer.

She likes technology better than people. Technology doesn’t lie or keep things from her.

But it can make it difficult to keep her eyes open at work on mornings after she’s gotten almost no sleep. She slumps at her desk and yawns heavily. A few moments with her eyes closed won’t hurt anything.

“How are you doing over there, Katie?” Pam asks. Her voice startles Katie back awake.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m fine,” she lies. Rubs her eyes and blinks her contact lenses back into place.

Pam stands and crosses to the coffee maker, picking up Katie’s mug along the way. “Hon, I’ve seen you tired before, but never this bad. Usually those computers get you fired up faster than your morning coffee.”

Katie shrugs. “It’s nothing. Just a rough night last night.” She tugs at a few chunks of hair to loosen her braid. When she’s tired, she’s prone to headaches and she feels one coming on now.

When Pam turns around, a cup of coffee in each hand, Katie sees the look of sympathy there that she so despises. As much as she appreciates that people care about her, it too often feels like smothering. Pam sets the coffee down at Katie’s desk. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“If you ever need to take the day off, I’m sure no one will mind.” Pam puts a hand on Katie’s shoulder briefly, then returns to her desk. “With everything that’s happened, we understand that you might need some time every once in awhile.”

Katie squirms beneath the words. “Yeah. Okay.” She brings the mug to her lips and inhales the steam that drifts from the opening. The silence is a stronger brew than the coffee. “Your son’s going into middle school this fall, isn’t he?”

The secretary doesn’t miss the deliberate change of subject, but she doesn’t comment either. “Yes, Kevin will be in sixth grade. And Megan is going into fourth.”  
“That’s great. Are they excited?” Katie fiddles with the code for a school-friendly social media platform.

“Very. What about you? What are your plans for next fall? Are you applying to any of the private high schools in the area, or will we get to see your beautiful face in the halls of South-Central High?”

Katie takes a drink of coffee. It slides down her throat with a smear of aftertaste. “I’m joining the Galaxy Garrison.”

***

After work, she bikes back out the Garrison.

Maybe she should wait a few days between getting caught and applying there, and probably she should send it in the mail like most of the applicants, but she can’t help herself. She has to hand in her application in person and as soon as possible. Two more months of summer is too long to wait and even though this will make nothing go faster she has to do it anyway.

Katie parks her bike at the front gate and motions to the woman in the guardhouse. “What can I do for you today, sweetie?” the guard asks.

She holds up the thick envelope in her hand. “I’m applying to the Garrison.”

“Most people just mail in their applications.”

“I know. But I want to apply in person.”

The woman shrugs. “Whatever. But you have to surrender your backpack here.”

“No problem.”

The gate slides open.

Katie makes it as far as the front desk. She approaches the secretary and slides the envelope across the counter. “I’d like to submit my application for the Galaxy Garrison.”

The man--who looks young enough to be a student himself, probably working here through the summer to help pay his tuition--reaches for her papers. He looks at the information printed neatly on the outside for a moment. Then he hands them back to her. “I’m sorry, Ms. Holt, but we cannot accept your application.”

Katie’s heart skips a beat. “ _What?_ ”

“You’ve been permanently excluded from Garrison property and affairs. Which means you can’t go to school here.” He types a few things onto his keyboard. “And you need to leave.”

“No.” Anger rises in Katie’s throat, and the headache that’s been buzzing in her head all day flares. “No. You can’t deny my application. You haven’t even _looked_ at it--”

“I will call security if you do not leave immediately.”

“Call security, then! Get Iverson, even, because I need to talk to someone in charge. You have no right to keep me out of here!”

The secretary stands up and holds out his arms. “Calm down, Katie.”

“I will not _calm down!_ My family is out there and none of you are doing anything about it! I know they’re still alive!”

A nearby door opens up and spits out three armed guards and Commander Iverson.

“You!” Katie shouts, and lunges at him.

Iverson blocks her with one arm. “I thought I was clear last night,” he says with dangerous calmness, “that you are _never_ allowed back in this Garrison.”

Katie’s insults and accusations dissolve into an incomprehensible mess, and when a guard lifts her bodily away from Iverson and the other two grab her by the arms, she falls quiet under his gaze. Watches the Commander with unbridled hatred.

He kneels to where her application sits on the floor, dropped in her attack. He picks it up and turns it over. Considers the words there. “Katie Holt,” he says. “The board of admissions at the Galaxy Garrison has read and reviewed your application and is sorry to inform you that you will not be accepted into the space cadet program at this time. Our decision is final and will not be reconsidered. Your application has been denied.”

He drops the envelope into the trash.


	3. Lucky You Didn't Get Hurt Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her rejection from the Garrison, Katie needs to blow of some steam--and her bad day only gets worse.

They throw her bike in the back of a truck and drive her into town. She lies and says her mother isn’t home, and as soon as they’re gone she tosses her backpack against the house and hops on her bike. She needs to be alone for a while. There’s no way she can face her mom.

Katie isn’t sure where she’s going. Mostly, she’s pumping the pedals as fast as her legs will let her, taking the street corners too hard and jumping all of the curbs. Rush hour’s over by now, but the leftover commuters honk at her when they have to slam on their brakes. She ignores them and keeps going.

Her entire future, stolen from her in the space of a minute.

She had never planned on anything else. From the time she was a child, her father would bring home stories from work about the wonders of the space program, and she knew that it was her destiny to join him in the skies. Her resolve had only deepened when Matt got into the Garrison, and even though it was hard on both of them to be separated by months at a time for seven long years, when he came home on break he told her how much she would like it there, what a good cadet she would be. Everything in her life had pointed her toward the Garrison, and then it had all fallen apart.

Now she has nothing.

Tears burn in her eyes, clouding her vision and making snot dribble out of her nose. She takes a hand off the steering bar to wipe it away, but she’s off balance enough now that the movement tips her bike sideways. The wheel turns and catches on the curb, scraping off the sidewalk and onto the street. Katie slams her grip back down on the handlebars and fights to keep the bike upright. The other tire bounces down behind her and she pushes one leg down to get forward momentum.

The screeching of brakes behind her is the only warning she has before the van hits her.

People who pass out when they get injured, Katie thinks, are lucky. It’s a defense mechanism of the brain or something. But hers must be malfunctioning, because for some reason, Katie remains conscious. Painfully conscious.

Her bike flies away from the collision as Katie slides up the windshield, tumbling over herself in a tangle of arms and legs and vehicle. The van had slowed enough by the time it hit her that she doesn’t roll all the way to the top, but rather only makes it far enough to smash an ear on the paint job and slide back down the front. One more jolt as the van comes to a complete stop, and she falls forward.

A few seconds after she hits the ground, the pain arrives.

She tries to breath through her nose and can’t because it feels like her face is on fire. Pavement and dust fill her nostrils. A door opens and shuts and then hands are on her, turning her over. Katie groans. She tries to say ouch but it sounds more like an “Aaugh.”

Ringing in her ears. Sound fades in and out. “... you okay? I have 911 on … going to send an ambulance…”

Katie blinks and pushes herself onto her elbows. Looks at her surroundings to focus on what’s outside her body rather than in it. A handful of people stand around her, crowding in close but still conspicuously not touching her. The driver of the van, kneeling beside her, is the only one making contact. He still has a hand around one of her arms, and she shifts away enough to make him let go.

A wave of pain hits her, from her nose and her right forearm, scraped raw from her fall. Heat bombards her body--another mysterious reaction to pain--until sweat beads her forehead. She lowers back to the ground and squeezes her eyes shut. Takes deep breaths through her mouth. “Okay, so this really hurts. Like really. So I’m just going to… I’m going to breathe. Not from my nose.”

Katie rambles when she’s in pain. It’s a habit--yet another defense mechanism, but this one self-imposed--she developed when she would fall on the playground in elementary school and the boys would make fun of her for crying. Then she would fight them, get hurt again, and cry more. So she learned to deal with physical pain by talking through it.

“My nose is bleeding, isn’t it?” she says as calmly as possible.

The van driver looks at her with surprise. “Yeah, it is. Do you want a tissue or something?”

Katie doesn’t nod because of her headache. She lifts her left arm and slowly lowers her thumb and forefinger over her nose. Prepares herself for the pain. Looks up to the darkening sky. “If you have one that would be great. You called an ambulance, right? I don’t think anything’s broken but there’s definitely some gravel in my hands and I’ll need stitches and _fuck_. Ow.”

Pinching her nose is _not_ a good idea. Her hands are shaking now. That ambulance had better hurry up. She can’t hold out much longer.

Someone from the crowd hands her a tissue. “Thank you.”

“Should we move her onto the sidewalk?” someone asks.

“No, you’re not supposed to move crash victims,” another replies. “She could have spinal damage or something. Can you move your feet?”

They keep her talking--or maybe it’s the other way around--until the ambulance arrives. A pair of EMTs lifts her onto a stretcher and load her inside. The rotors thrum and it lifts off the ground in seconds, and Katie feels the subtle shifts of the craft navigating toward the hospital. It’s a quiet ride above the traffic aside from the sound of her own voice, telling the crew exactly where she was injured. They poke a needle in her arm and after a few minutes it becomes less important to talk so much.

It’s a long evening of forceps and gritted teeth, local anesthetics and bandages. Her mom joins her at some point, but eventually Katie asks her to leave because it’s harder for her to cope with the pain in Mom’s anxiety-ridden presence. Once she’s tended to and in a room, she lets her back in. Katie’s head floats with painkillers, and she might fall asleep at any moment now.

“Hey. Funny seeing you here,” she tries to joke. It falls flat under her mother’s scrutiny.

“Katie, what were you thinking?”

She picks at the edges of the wrap on her forearm. There’s a strip of gauze taped onto her face, across where her nose, cheek, and eyebrow met the pavement. It obscures her vision from one eye, and her contact lenses had to come out anyway so most things are a blur.

“What was I thinking when? Because I’ve been thinking a lot of things for a long time, so you’re really going to have to be more spe--”

“Breaking into the _Garrison_? Hacking classified files?” Her mother’s voice carries her anguish. In the disconnect of her drugged mind, Katie thinks that she can see the sadness like a cloud around her. She sinks into the chair next to Katie’s bed. 

“Oh. That. And here I thought I was going to get chewed out for getting hit by a van.”

Mom drops her head into her hands and Katie realizes she’s stepped too far. Her shoulders shake with unshed tears. The cobwebs of painkillers lifts from her mind.  
“I know I shouldn’t, but Mom--there’s so much they’re not telling us!” Her blood pounds suddenly at the thought, and her wounds throb. “I saw the video feeds from Kerberos, and there was an ice drill! Which means they _had_ to have landed--”

“What difference does it make, Katie?” Her mom looks over at her. There are shadows under her eyes, and Katie has the sneaking suspicion that they aren’t just from the buzzing halogen lights.

She keeps going. “It makes every difference! Why would they lie about this? Something _happened_ out there, and I’m going to find out what it is so that I can find them!”

Katie holds up her arms, tugging at the heart monitor on her finger. Her mom _has_ to understand.

“Is that what you think?” Mom asks. Her voice shakes. “That they’re still alive out there?”

“Of course I do!” She scratches at her nose bandage and immediately regrets it for the pain it causes. The pounding in her head and in her heart subsides, and behind it lurks tiredness. “Of course I do.”

Her mother’s face falls. “Katie. This has gone too far.”

The blood in Katie’s fingers grows cold. She blinks in disbelief.

“I spoke with Mr. Hernandez today, and he thought that you might be stuck in the first stage of grieving.” She takes the gems from her ears and slides them into her purse. Her necklace comes next, and Katie guesses she plans to sleep here for the night. “I wasn’t sure, but now I think he’s right. You’re in denial, Katie. It’s not uncommon for children your age to--”

“I’m not in denial,” Katie interrupts, but she lacks the energy to inject the venom she wants to. “And I’m not grieving because they _aren’t dead_.”

“Stop. Please, just stop. I can’t take any more of this, and neither can you.” Mom runs a hand through her hair, leaving it more messed up than Katie has seen in ages. “Do you realize that you almost got killed today? You are in a _hospital bed_ covered in bandages. You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt worse.”

_There’s the getting-hit-by-a-van part_ , Katie thinks wryly. But her flash of alertness is spent, and it gives way to the kind of exhaustion that’s warranted by all that’s happened today. She _wants_ to argue, though. Mom needs to know that there’s more to be found, because her mom has always listened to her and now can’t be the one time that she doesn’t.

“They threw it away,” Katie whimpers, but she’s being pulled down into sleep. “My application.”

She has to tell her. They’re scared of what she’ll find out, and even though she’s scared, too, she knows she needs to find it. She owes it to her family--they’re still out there. She can feel it. Why can’t her mom feel it? There’s a force, pulling her into space. It feels alive, and it’s calling to her. Surely it’s her family.

What else could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for leaving such lovely comments and kudos. They are all so appreciated!


	4. The Scars Will Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan forms in Katie's head.

They let her out of the hospital the next morning, satisfied that she doesn’t have a concussion. She’s got enough medications to survive the apocalypse, but deigns not to take the painkillers because they make her feel fuzzy. She prefers alert and in pain to dazed and unfeeling. Besides, if she doesn’t move very much, it’s not so bad. The doctor said that her wounds should scab over in a few days. The bruises that paint her leg, hip, and chest are already several shades of angry purple, and draw a grimace at every touch.

Her least favorite part is changing bandages, because they stick everywhere that hurts the most. But Katie tries not to dwell on that.  
She thinks instead of a plan.

It’s multifaceted, as complex as the strings of code she writes. And just like with code, every line, every command, every digit needs to be exactly right to achieve success.  
Failure is not an option.

The first part is easy. “Thank you for calling the South-Central Phoenix School District administration offices, this is Pam.”

“Hey Pam, this is Katie Holt.” She taps her index finger on the back of her phone.

“Oh hi, Katie.”

“Sorry for the late notice, but I won’t be able to make it into work today. I kind of--I got in a car accident last night. But I’m fine! I just need a few days to recover.”

She hears the grimace in Pam’s voice. “Your mom called the office last night and left a message. Take all the time you need. Is there anything I can do for you? I’d be happy to bring over dinner sometime.”

“Um--I’ll let you know.” She doesn’t want to refuse outright. “But there’s another thing I need to ask.”

“Of course.” There’s a bit of static in the line.

“Tuesdays are they days I got to see a counselor,” she says, hoping that she can get through this without having to lie outright to Pam. “I usually just go over lunch. I was wondering if maybe I could take the whole day off from now on.”

She doesn’t mention that she skips her appointments more often than not, and that her needing Tuesdays off has nothing to do with counseling.

“I’m sure we’ll make it without you,” Pam says, and through the slight joke her tone is earnest. It settles in the ends of her words and makes them heavy. “I’ll talk to your supervisor today, but thanks to you he’s weeks ahead of what he planned on this summer. It won’t be a problem for you to take a day off through the week.”

“Thank you, Pam,” Katie says, and checks her watch. “And speaking of that appointment, I need to get going.”

“It was good talking to you. Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

She hangs up and asks the stars above to grant her the mercy that Pam doesn’t tell her mom about this. All her mom will know is that she is working on Tuesdays--but where and on what will be conveniently ambiguous.

As… indisposed as she is, Katie is at her mom’s whim. So this week she’s forced to go see Dr. Hernandez, and all throughout the appointment she feigns remorse at her actions and a desire to find peace with her family’s loss. She wonders if Dr. Hernandez knows that the Garrison is lying to them, because they’re footing the bill for both her and her mom’s therapy. She wouldn’t put it past them.

Katie lays it on thick, counting on her mangled face to sell it harder. “When I was lying in that hospital bed… it really hit me. How childish I’ve been. And how I haven’t just been hurting myself, but my mom too.”

Mr. Hernandez steeples his fingers, clearly impressed by her progress. She played it like her normal self at first, of course, but allowed herself to be slowly brought around to his preferred way of thinking. He’ll think it’s just as much his own skill as a therapist as her experience with the van. At the end of the session he even mentions her not having to be in therapy for as long as expected given today’s progress.

Hubris. Powerful stuff.

Two pieces of her plan, now locked in place.

What comes next will take more time. Katie has always been a dab hand with technology, but natural skill is not enough. Not if she plans to be the best space cadet the Garrison has ever seen. Before the incident, her talents had made her a shoo-in for training, but that’s not enough for her anymore.

She supposes it’s something akin to what the girls at school say when they’re bitter about their ex-boyfriends. Katie has never felt that way about a guy, but what they say seems right--show them what they’re missing. She needs the satisfaction of knowing that they turned down Katie Holt, the best computer programmer that ever was. And if she can help it, she’ll be an amazing pilot, engineer, communications officer, and commander as well.

Her other motivation is equally important. If she’s going to get into space and find her family, she can’t waste seven years in training. She needed to be in space months ago. But that’s impossible, and as close as she can get is testing into a higher year than her age implies.

The people who have done it are legends. But they exist. During Matt’s final year at the Garrison--would this really have been his second year since graduating?--there was a fourteen year old who tested into the Garrison. Katie even knows his name: Keith Kogane. The pilot on the Kerberos mission was his mentor, and Matt met the kid a few times. Matt said he was quiet. Determined.

But Katie?

She is more determined than Keith or anyone else to ever pass through the Garrison. Her goal: test into fourth or fifth year. It’s most attainable as a communications officer, like Matt, because she can learn the necessary skills at her computer and by rooting through all of Matt’s old books and notes. But that means a lot of studying, and until her mom is ready to hear her plan she has to keep it a secret. Hence taking Tuesdays off of work. When the placement test gets closer--mid July--she’ll take Mondays as well.

That only leaves one piece to her plan, by far the hardest. Katie Holt has been denied admission indefinitely, so the only solution is to be someone else. Just _how_ different she has to be comes to her during her grandmother’s weekly visit.

“Oh, honey, your _face_ ,” is the first thing Oma says when she walks through the door. Katie bites down on her lip to avoid a sarcastic response, and instead accepts the kiss to her forehead. She hobbles--a bad knee--to Katie’s mom next, and pulls her into a hug. “Do you need me to stay with you for another few weeks to help out?” she asks, glancing at Katie as though she can’t hear her. “If you’re struggling with Katie again…”

“No, Ma,” her mom says, reaching down absently to pet the dog, who’s decided to grace them with her appearance this evening. Pluto’s old now, and spends most of her time sleeping. “This was just an accident. And Katie, what is it that Dr. Hernandez said to you today?”

“I believe it included the words ‘unprecedented’ and ‘improvement.’”

Oma smiles. “How nice. Come here, let me have a look at you.”

Katie groans inwardly, but steps around Pluto toward her Oma anyway. Even though she sees her every week, her grandmother insists on examining her like a piece of furniture each time. Today’s will be especially bad, given recent events.

“Will this--this thing on your face be permanent?” she asks.

“It’s not deep,” Katie answers. “The scars will fade.”

Oma purses her lips, satisfied. “And your hand?”

Katie turns over her arm, feeling the damage beneath the gauze. “That too.”

“Good. Once those get healed up, you’ll be a very pretty girl.” Oma puts a hand lightly against Katie’s chin, but the words twist in her stomach. “You’re getting a woman’s body now--soon there will be no mistaking you for a boy.”

Now as physically uncomfortable as mentally, Katie ducks away from her Oma’s touch. She escapes to her room as quickly as her mom will let her, Pluto trailing behind her.

These kinds of comments aren’t unusual from her grandmother, and normally she is able to shrug them off. She tells all of the girls in her family how pretty they are, all of the boys that they’re strong and handsome. Katie has always felt Oma just says it to her so she doesn’t feel left out. She’s never been pretty, and she doesn’t want to be; she cares about more important things.

Her mind rolls over the notion that Oma’s words don’t fit her. What she said tonight, especially, sends Katie’s brain into overdrive. She _knows_ this information is useful, and when realization hits her, it hits like a van.

Katie needs to learn how to be a boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUNN! And so it begins...


	5. Pilot Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real research begins.  
> Look at the end of the chapter for Spanish translations.

As much as she hates to admit it, the internet has its limits. Katie has done what research she can on how to act like a boy, but there isn’t much out there.

Which is how she ends up stalking people.

It’s been hours in the city, taking notes on her phone, and pictures when she knows no one’s looking. Her goal for today: the walk.

“What… is he doing with his hips?” Katie whispers, and sets her phone to videotape the way a boy is walking. She rests it against her chest to make it look like she’s not doing anything, and hopes he’s in the frame. There’s a group of three boys in the park across from where she sits, and one of them has the masculine swagger she hopes to replicate. They look to be about her age.

One of them has a skateboard. He kicks around on it, gliding over the pavement and into a flock of pigeons. They scatter in Katie’s general direction, which startles her. The phone slides down off of her shirt, and she checks to make sure it’s still recording before she repositions it.

When she looks up, the boy with the swagger is staring at her.

Katie looks away hastily. It’s time to leave.

She clicks off her phone screen and stands, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. It’s an awkward motion with her non-dominant hand, but the scabs across her arm are still too easily broken.

The three boys jay-walk toward her.

“Hey!” one of them calls. Katie reaches into a side pocket on her bag for Matt’s pocket knife. Maybe she regrets not buying pepper spray before spying on people who could definitely beat her up. “Hey, you mind telling us what you were doing with that phone, chica?”

Katie swallows hard. Doesn’t turn around as she starts walking. The knife is sweaty in her palm.

“Jacob, you idiot. You’re scaring her,” another of the boys says.

“Solo quiero saber la que estaba haciendo,” the first hisses back at him. “If you’re with the police, we wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“Does she really look like she’s with the police? Of course she isn’t--but if you don’t chill she’s definitely going to call them. Look, Jacob wasn’t trying to scare you! We won’t hurt you.”

“Anthony. Quit talking to her like she’s a dog.”

“Better than like I’m threatening her.”

Katie slows down and turns, but doesn’t let go of the knife. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

The one with the swagger--Jacob--raises his eyebrows. “Then why’d you run away from us?”

“I wasn’t _running_. And anyone who saw three guys coming at her would leave. I have a knife, you know.”

Anthony raises his arms, and the third boy, who hasn’t spoken yet, takes a step back.

“No need to use that, chica,” Jacob advises. “We just don’t like people pointing their phones at us, alright? What are you planning on doing with those pictures?”

“Did you get hurt?” the third boy asks, clearly stunned by the wounds across her face.

“Sandy, you dumbass, you can’t just ask someone that.” Jacob swats at his friend’s arm.

Katie smirks, realizing how little of a threat these boys are. “You should see the other guy,” is all she says on the matter.

Sandy’s eyes widen.

“You really want to know what I’m doing?” she asks.

All three boys nod.

Well. It’s all or nothing now. She slides the pocket knife back into her bag. “The government is lying about the disappearance of my family so I need to disguise myself as a boy to infiltrate their base and find the truth.”

Anthony blinks and Sandy’s jaw physically drops. Jacob laughs. “What telenovela did you get that one out of?”

Katie looks Jacob squarely in the eye. “Did you hear about the Kerberos mission, in space? It was all over the news a few months back--they say it was a crash.”

Anthony bites his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah. Pilot error.”

The words feel like a knife in her bruised ribs, but she nods. “I’m Katie Holt. My brother and father were on that mission. And they didn’t crash.”

The three boys take a moment to consider her words. They look at her face, at the wounds there, and the determined set of her stance. Her hands are almost curled into fists, though she doesn’t know how to fight with them. But she hopes it tells them that she’s done nothing _but_ fight for the last five months, even if it hasn’t been with her fists.

Jacob crosses his arms. “Either you’re as crazy as they come, or you’re telling the truth.”

“But why do you need to disguise yourself as a boy?” Sandy asks. There’s acne all over his face, partially obscured by a mass of black, curly hair.

Katie grins and itches conspicuously at one of the scabs on her face. “I had an… altercation with a commander at the Garrison and now I’m not allowed back out there.”

Sandy gasps audibly, having connected the dots exactly how she wanted him to. Anthony and Jacob both look impressed. They all share a look, and a smile stretches across Jacob’s face.

“Well, Katie. If you’re going to be a boy, looks like you’ve got a lot of work to do. And we’re going to help.”

“What?” Now it’s Katie’s turn to look on them with disbelief.

Anthony runs a hand over his hair, though it’s little more than pitch-black fuzz across his head. He’s sweating almost as much as Katie, and wipes his palm against his shirt. “Yeah, we’ll help you. You can’t be a boy without hanging out with some. There’s a lot of stuff you can’t learn just from creeping on us like a pigeon looking for food. And--by the way--it’s really not cool to creep on people.”

A blush rises to Katie’s cheeks. “Sorry about that.”

“You have to get rid of whatever you have of us on your phone, though.” Jacob points to her cell phone, and without hesitation Katie deletes the video.

“You’re awfully suspicious, aren’t you?”

Jacob just shrugs. “So what do you need to learn, Katie?”

“And when do you need to learn it by?” Anthony adds.

Katie grimaces. “I’m going to be a cadet, and they live on Garrison property full time. Training starts in August.”

Sandy whistles. “So you’ve got two months to turn yourself from a chic _a_ into a chic _o_. Buena suerte.”

“You’re the ones that just offered to help me.”

The grin on Jacob’s face is wide enough to show a full mouth of crooked teeth. He steps toward her and rests an elbow on her shoulder. He looks down at her, taller than Katie by several inches. “And that, little pigeon, is just what we’re going to do.”

***

The boys agree to meet with Katie on Tuesdays through the day, on the evenings that Jacob isn’t working shifts at a nearby gas station, and on the weekends when they can manage. They hang out in public places to observe how men act, and Katie practices under their tutelage. The rest of her free time goes to studying as hard as possible in preparation for the Garrison placement exam, and creating a fake identity to apply as.

She doesn’t take any chances--in addition to falsifying the necessary documentation, she creates a social media presence to be updated and added to over the summer. She posts a few pictures of Matt she’s edited to look more like Katie as a boy, and changes the post date so he won’t have magically appeared two months before training. The hardest part is figuring out a name, but like so many other things, she has her new friends to thank for the inspiration.

“What about John?” Anthony suggests, sliding his skateboard back and forth under one foot. “It’s the most common name for white boys, so you won’t draw any attention with it.”

Katie grimaces and looks back out across the crowd, jotting down a few notes about the men she sees. “I’m not a fifty year old suburban dad. I need something younger.”  
“I’ve always liked the name Jacob,” says Jacob. Anthony punches his shoulder--and Katie writes down a note about casual physical violence. “What? Es un nombre _fenomenal_.”

“I don’t really want, like, a _boy_ boy name,” Katie tries to explain. “I want to feel comfortable with it, not like I’m lying the whole time.”

“But you are,” Anthony points out. He splays his hands against Katie’s glare, palms turned to show the light-and-shadow difference between the skin on the front and backs of his hands.

“So like, you want an androgynous name?” Jacob asks.

“A what?” Sandy looks him like he’s speaking a third language.

“One that can be a boy or a girl name,” he explains. “But with some of the things my cousins are naming their kids, it doesn’t even have to be one or the other. Díos, I could keep calling you pigeon and people would believe it was your real name.”

“That’s actually a good idea,” Anthony adds, and looks over at Jacob in a way that makes Katie think he’s pained to admit it.

Katie rolls her eyes. “I can’t be named after a _bird_. That’s just stupid.”

“Then change it a little. So long as it sounds kind of like a name, lo estará bien.” Jacob shrugs and picks at the dirt under his fingernails.

Anthony frowns. “If you take off the first part of pigeon it’s still John.”

“I already said my name will _not_ be John.”

Jacob laughs aloud. “Then that leaves us with only one option.”

“And what is that?” Katie raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms, waiting.

Sandy is the one that says it, as quietly as he says anything: “Pidge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if any of my translations are inaccurate. They are brought to you by four years of Spanish class and SpanishDict.com
> 
> solo quiero saber la que estaba haciendo = I only want to know what she was doing.  
> chica = girl  
> chico = boy  
> buena suerte = good luck  
> es un nombre fenomenal = it's a great name  
> Díos = God  
> lo estará bien = it will be fine


	6. Not a Man Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katie's life falls into a routine of preparation, but what happens make her and her friends consider what roles they play in their families and in society.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late posting this chapter! It's been a crazy week and I was away from my laptop all day. But better late than never, right?

“Alright. One more set.” Sandy avoids looking down at her, and Katie avoids looking up at him. From this height and angle, it’s awkward. But, she reminds herself, if she were a boy she wouldn’t care about that.

Her hands are slick with sweat--an unpleasant feeling to say the least--so she wipes them on her leggings before continuing. Hands around the bar. Feet flat on the ground beneath her, and stomach tucked in like--what had Anthony said?--like she’s trying to put her bellybutton against the bench. Just one more set.

Katie takes a deep breath and pushes the bar up from its resting place, lining it up over her chest. She lowers it as slowly as she can manage, but pushing it back up is the hard part. The muscles in her chest and back burn, and she’s sure the scabs across her face--though smaller now than they used to be--are cracked. Her sweat stings in them.

If the last two weeks have taught Katie anything, it’s how much work she has to do. Every aspect of her life is permeated by what girls do and what boys do, and relearning all of that is no small task. The strangest part is that, for every boy thing she learns that doesn’t feel right, there is another that feels like she should have been doing her entire life.

“If you’re going to be a guy,” Jacob had said, “you have to know your way around the gym. And only girls have twig arms like that.” He’d flicked her arm at told her that they meet three times a week to lift. Her legs are strong because she bikes so much, but her arms, back, and chest can barely lift a thing in comparison to Jacob and Anthony, and even Sandy can out-lift her with ease.

Katie grunts through the last three repetitions of the bench press, and then lets Sandy guide the bar back over the rack. “Not so high-pitched,” Sandy warns. He’s been slowly more able to talk to Katie as time passes. “If you’re going to make noise when you lift, it has to be deeper.”

She sits up, breathing heavily, and lifts the corner of her tank top to wipe the sweat from her face. Sandy looks away, red-faced. “Okay. I’ll work on it--there’s no way I can get through this stuff without making a sound.”

It had been her intention to start working out this summer, anyway, but her new friends have been invaluable in the process. She doesn’t expect to become muscular by any means, but like Jacob had said--filling out a little will help make her more convincing as a boy.

“Your form’s getting better,” Anthony says, having just finished his own set. Katie tries not to dwell on the fact that she can barely lift the bar, and Jacob and Anthony have twenty-five pound plates on either side. “But try not to arch your back. Remember, belly--”

“--button to the bench,” Katie finishes. “Yeah, I know.” She can feel the soreness creeping further into her limbs, though it’s already as constant as the pain of her healing wounds. She uses it as motivation and a reminder of her goals.

“Look at you, Olympic lifter,” Jacob jokes, patting her on the shoulder and leaving a chalk handprint there. Katie swats him away and tightens her ponytail. Switches places with Sandy so he can do his last set. He adds ten pounds to either side.

She surveys the room while Sandy presses the bar, counting along with his reps absently. It’s not a fancy gym by any means, with a room for both cardio and weights behind the front desk, a basketball court, and locker rooms. The thrum of treadmills and clinking of weights mingles with the fans that fight the summer heat.

Since Katie started watching people more, trying to pick up on manly habits and suppress feminine ones, she’s noticed the gender divide in startling places--the gym, for instance. Of the twelve people working out right now, the six of the seven women are on cardio equipment, and all of the men are lifting weights. Katie tries not to feel weird being the only girl on this side of the gym, but she can’t ignore it. She feels judged, almost, for being over here, and knows she would have stopped coming after the first day had it not been for the guys.

Katie helps Sandy rack the bar, and then wipes it off while he puts the plates away. Jacob and Anthony clean their bench as well.

“Are we done? Please tell me we’re done,” Katie says, but the boys know by now she’ll keep going if she has to.

Jacob glances at the beat-up workout paper in his hand. “Yeah, that’s it for the day, mis amigos. Hit the showers.”

Katie sighs with relief, and would pump a fist in the air if she still had the ability to lift an arm above her waist. Showering will be difficult. “I’ll meet you guys outside?”

“Por supuesto. See you in ten, Pidge.”

Katie grins at the sound of her new name.

***

The smell of reheated lasagna fills the office. Pam brought it in this morning, and “accidentally” packed enough for both of them. Katie collects plates and silverware from a cupboard in the teacher’s lounge, and sets them out next to the microwave. Pam returns from the restroom and separates the reheated lasagna between them.

“This smells really good,” Katie says. “Thank you for sharing.”

Pam laughs. “Well, I'm trying to watch what I eat--Tim is planning a vacation to Florida next summer and I can't wear a swimsuit looking like this. I want to lose at least fifteen pounds before then.”

To Katie, Pam looks just fine. And if she recalls correctly, Tim has much more extra weight than his wife does. “Are you and Tim dieting together, then?”

“What? Oh, no. I couldn't get him to diet if I tried. Men don't have to watch their weight like we do.”

Katie bites back a comment about how she shouldn't have to, either, because she knows it will do no good. “Well, I think you already look fine, Pam. But good luck anyway.”

Pam blushes. “You're too sweet.”

They take the lasagna up front to eat. Katie, since starting to lift with the boys, has noticed an increase in her appetite. She finishes the lasagna in a matter of minutes and starts in on the peanut butter sandwich her mom packed. Once she finishes that, she thanks Pam again and stands.

“I’m headed down to the computer lab,” she says, and Pam waves her away.

“If I need anything, I call you over the intercom.”

Katie hooks her backpack over one shoulder and exits the office.

Her current project for the school is to install a new operating system for the computers in the media center. The factory updates were too much for the outdated desktops, so Katie has to reinstall the old one with a compatible version she's written. It should take her a week at most.

The worst part is that she has to upload the new software manually.

An hour and a half later, Katie is on the eleventh computer. The intercom clicks on. “Katie? There’s someone in the office here to see you,” says a tinny version of Pam’s voice. Katie almost answers before she remembers that the intercom is one way, and plays through all the coms in the school simultaneously. “Apparently it’s… urgent.”

Urgent? Hopefully it’s not Mom.

They’ve been speaking more lately, but Katie can’t stand lying to her about where she’s been or what she’s doing. And she’s been away from the house enough that she hardly sees her mom anyway.

Katie shuts her music off and speed-walks back to the front office.

When she opens the door, she’s relieved--if surprised--to see three heads of black hair rather than one of ginger-brown.

“Do you know these guys?” Pam asks.

Katie grins. “Yeah, they’re with me.” She pulls each of them into the bro-hug they taught her. “What are you guys doing here?”

“There’s a big fundraiser going on downtown,” Jacob answers. “We’re taking you.”

Katie glances over at Pam, who still eyes the boys warily. Katie guesses it’s uncommon for a group of teenagers to wander on school grounds over the summer, much less enter the front office.

“Guys. I can’t--I’m working.”

Sandy rolls his bottom lip. “I told you she wouldn’t be able to come.”

“But this is the biggest crowd we’ll have a chance to see all summer--people are coming from all over the city.” Anthony widens his eyes and turns over his palms, his message implied.

“Guys, I want to, I just…”

Pam’s keyboard clicks as she types. “When are you supposed to have those computers done, Katie?”

“When school starts,” she replies automatically.

“And when do you think you’ll have it done by?”

“Next week.”

Pam laughs. “Go have fun with your friends.”

“Thanks Pam.”

Katie collects her things out of the office and stuffs them into her backpack, and follows the boys out of the office. After the air conditioning in the office, Katie feels the afternoon heat outside like a second skin. She can almost count down the minutes until she’s sweated through her blouse and leggings.

The boys have skateboards, so Katie pedals along with them slowly on her bike. Her arms and back are sore, and they’ve only gotten worse from hunching over computers that aren’t hers all morning. She appreciates the chance to stretch out.

“So what is this thing you’re taking me too?”

Anthony looks at her over his shoulder. Sweat drips from his forehead. “The city’s doing a fundraiser to pay for renovations on the community swimming pools. They’ve been talking about it on the radio for weeks.”

“I’ve been kind of busy lately,” she shoots back.

“And what have you been up to?” Jacob asks, though he full well knows the answer.

Katie shrugs. “Pidge Gunderson never discloses his secrets.”

Anthony “Ooooooh”s and Sandy applauds. They turn the corner and continue down another street, headed toward the middle of downtown. The sounds of a large crowd can already be heard, rolling towards them on the heat waves.

As she pedals, Katie thinks about her new identity. He’s been fun to create--there are no expectations for what he’s like, so she’s been able to craft him just how she wishes she could be. His social media is filled with memes--mostly because they serve as evidence of his existence without being personal, but also because Katie loves them--and he has a sense of humor that’s as sharp as his skills at a computer.

If there’s one thing Katie and Pidge have in common, it’s their endless desire for knowledge. And the truth.

They stop and walk once the crowd becomes too thick to ride through. Katie locks her bike to a pole and the boys carry their skateboards under one arm. The heat presses in on Katie as closely as the crowd.  
“We need to find a good dude-watching place,” Sandy suggests. “Can’t see anything from down here.”

“Yeah. I think there’s a bunch of picnic tables set up in the park,” Anthony offers over the sound of so many people. “And live music! Pidge, you can learn how to dance!”

Katie pulls a face and makes sure all three of them see it. “I don’t dance as a girl--there’s no way in hell I’ll dance as a guy, either.”

Jacob throws his head back in a laugh. “You kiss your mamá with that mouth?”

“You can bet your ass I do,” Katie replies, and savors the feel of expletives on her tongue. She’s always been told a lady doesn’t curse, and now that she’s free of that? It’s hard not to get too used to it. “I almost said ‘shit’ in front of her the other day. She would have gone nuts.”

“You’ve got to be careful, little pigeon.” Jacob wipes sweat away from his eyes and onto his cutout t-shirt. “You’re not a man yet.”

Katie rolls her eyes and shoves through the crowd.

Most of the picnic tables are taken, but they manage to find an empty one at the edge of the park. Rather than sitting on the benches, they all climb onto the table for a better vantage point. The tables are long so they all fit on one side, with Katie between Jacob and Sandy, and Anthony on Jacob’s other side.

Jacob turns to her. “What do you see?”

“People, mostly,” she replies. Anthony groans. “Fine. Okay, you see the one over there? In the orange shirt? The hands-in-pockets stance is classic for a guy who’s not interested in what’s going on. That’s Pidge most of the time, unless it’s technology or classwork.”

“Pidge sounds boring,” Sandy quips. He picks at a zit on his chin.

Katie frowns at him. “Pidge has a _job_ to do. He doesn’t have time to fool around.”

“I know.” Sandy slouches “I just like Katie better.”

“Alright,” Anthony interrupts, holding out a hand toward a pair of guys walking toward them from a food cart. “See the hot guy in the blue and gray? His hips don’t move when he walks, and his shoulders only do a little. That shows confidence and… why are you looking at me like that?”

“Muchacho, you just called that guy hot.”

“Y-yeah. He is.” Anthony shifts uncomfortably, but then sets his shoulders. “Look, I am a confident black man who can recognize when another man is attractive.”

Jacob rests a hand on his friend’s knee, and Anthony draws in a breath. “You can say whatever you want. It’s just _really_ gay.”

Anthony jerks back. “Yeah, fuck you, man.” Katie’s practiced eye watches the way his body closes off from them--arms crossed, legs pulled in, and shoulders slumped.

Katie narrows her eyes. Feels familiar coldness in her fingertips. “Jacob. Don’t use that like an insult.”

He considers the three friends on the bench, and under her glare he realizes he doesn’t have any of their support. Anthony is still offended, Katie has already scolded him, and Sandy is quiet, as usual. Katie imagines he would agree with her, anyway, as he’s taken to doing.

Jacob takes a deep breath. “Sorry, man. You can like whoever you want. It’s none of my business.”

“I like girls,” Anthony says.

“Then why’d you call that guy hot?”

“Just forget about it, okay? We’re here for Katie.”

“Whatever. So what were you saying about that guy’s shoulders?”

They return their gazes to the pair of men. The one in blue and gray, that Anthony pointed out, is tall and lanky. His companion is maybe an inch shorter, but with how much broader he is, Katie hardly notices. She expects them to turn away and go somewhere else, but they stop at a table not ten feet from where the four of them are sitting.

They seem to be arguing.

“You know I can’t dance for at least thirty minutes after eating,” the big one says, and takes a bite out of some kind of sandwich. He’s got an orange strip of fabric wrapped around his forehead, pushing back thick brown hair. “I get motion sick.”

“Everything gets you motion sick,” the other replies. He peels back the corner of something fried, and Katie watches his face change as he bites into it. “Eugh, this is disgusting. A disgrace to empanadas everywhere. I didn’t come back to the States a month early to eat nasty versions of the food I get at home.” He rewraps the food and sets it on the table.

“Does that mean you’re not going to eat that?” He takes another bite out of his sandwich.

“You can have it if we can go dance once you finish.”

“Why can’t you dance by yourself?”

The man laces his fingers together, but leaves both of his index fingers straight to tap on his upper lip. “Hunk. C’mon, man. You know I can’t pick up chicks without my wingman.”

He groans and holds out his hand. “Fine. But don’t blame me if your wingman gets empanada all over your shirt.”

They watch the two finish their food and leave, talking all the way. Katie lets her lip curl when their backs are fully turned. “Well, I know what kind of guy _not_ to act like,” she says. “But he’s got the walk.”

“He’s got the dance, too,” Anthony adds, eyes following the pair. The skinny one weaves through the crowd of dancers like it’s something he does often. The other follows carefully behind.

Jacob rests a hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “¿Qué hora es?”

“Almost five.” He says as he glances at his watch.

His friend swears and vaults from the table. “I gotta go home and get ready for work. They’ve got me on the six to midnight shift all week.”

“To midnight?” Anthony demands. His lips press into an angry line. “Minors aren’t allowed to work after ten P.M.”

“Try telling my boss that.” Jacob shrugs like it’s nothing, but Katie can see the exhaustion in his eyes. “Fifteen and eighteen are close enough for him. And I can’t turn down the hours. Adiós, mis amigos.”

He waves a hasty goodbye and shoulders away through the crowd.

“My dad says I need to get a job,” Sandy says. “He handed me a stack of applications last weekend.”

Katie blinks. “You just turned fourteen! Last weekend!”

“That’s old enough to work. He wants me to start pulling my weight around the house. I’ve been living off his money for fourteen years.”

Katie has a job as an excuse to get out of the house--all the money she makes is for her to do with as she pleases. It has never occurred to her that it could be different for her friends.

“He shouldn’t be working those kinds of hours.” Anthony kneads his hands together. “It’s insane.”

She says nothing.

Anthony slides off the bench and leads them into the crowd.

“C’mon. If you refuse to dance, let’s go watch people somewhere else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes--this is the chapter where it starts getting #Real. Instances such as the gender divide in the gym and Pam's comment about how "men don't have to watch their weight like we do" are things I've actually experienced in my life, and they are not being exaggerated for the sake of this story.  
> Also in case you somehow missed it, Lance and Hunk made an appearance in this chapter and Pidge is *already* fed up with Lance's shit. Also Anthony thinks he's hot. (Me too, Anthony. Me too.)
> 
> Spanish Translations:  
> por supuesto = of course  
> ¿Qué hora es? = What time is it?  
> Adiós, mis amigos = bye, my friends /bye, guys


	7. You're All I Have Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad has a movie night instead of a night on the town, and things get a bit more difficult with Katie's mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for this chapter: Menstruation  
> And feelings. Lots of feelings.

Katie’s cramps hit an hour before she gets off work.

Normally, she can suffer through them. Take some Ibuprofen and get on with her life. But these ones hit hard, and with the added soreness of a particularly grueling lift last night, Katie barely makes it into the house without collapsing.

She calls Jacob as soon as she gets home.

“¿Hola?”

“Hey, Jacob. It’s Katie.” She tries to keep the pain out of her voice--and her voice out of the pain. Pidge doesn’t ramble when he hurts. He is quiet, doesn’t draw attention to himself.

“What’s up, pigeon?”

“I’m going to have to take a rain check on tonight--I’ve got cramps from hell. Do you mind letting Anthony and Sandy know?” Katie lowers herself slowly onto the couch in the basement, and Pluto pads toward her from her bed nearby. She pets the dog with her free hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Are you just staying at home then?”

“I am. Gonna set up with pillows and have a night in.”

“Bueno. Se siente mejor pronto, chica. Adiós.”

“Gracias, Jacob. Adiós.”

Katie hangs up and rests her head on the couch arm behind her, begging the pain pills to work faster. It feels like her organs are clamped in a vice that gets tighter every time she moves. She can barely focus like this, and if she’s losing a night of research with the guys, then she needs to spend it studying. Pidge got his letter in the mail last week--sent to Anthony’s house instead of Katie’s, to avoid association with the Holts--with the time, date, and location of the placement exam. It’s next Saturday, which means she’s only got ten more days to prepare.

She types with teeth clenched.

The sound of a knock on the front door bounces down into the basement. Katie frowns--Oma came last night, so it isn’t her. Mom never orders take-out. Packages aren’t delivered this late.

She ignores it and continues her work. It’s solicitors at best, and media at worst. Friday will be six months since the Kerberos mission disappeared, and Katie wouldn’t put it past the press to run a follow-up story. Can’t they just let her mother have peace?

The door opens, and then after a few moments the door closes and she hears footsteps.

“Katie?” Mom calls from the top of the stairs. “Are you expecting visitors?”

“No,” she yells up. “Who is it?”

“There are three boys here. I’ll tell them to go away.”

She nearly bolts from the couch, startling Pluto. “No! No, send them down.” Katie would rush up to greet them, but the pain forces her back onto the couch.  
“Alright.” More quiet footsteps, and then loud ones tumble down into the basement under her mom’s direction.

Katie sits herself up on the couch and tosses some pillows out of the way to make more room. She closes her laptop.

“Did you think you could just _cancel_ on us?” Anthony says, following his voice down the stairs. Katie looks over the back of the couch at her friends. They’re all carrying things in their arms. “No way will we miss out on a night with our favorite pigeon.”

“But since you can’t come out,” Jacob continues for him, “we’re bringing the party to you.”

They round the couch and unload their arms onto Katie’s lap and the couch. There’s comfort food, a massive blanket, a stack of movies, reusable heat packs, and a bottle of Midol that sounds mostly empty as it rolls.

Katie feels her face redden.

“You guys, this is…”

Jacob’s eyes widen. “This is what you meant when you said you had cramps, right? Because otherwise this is as embarrassing as hell.”

“No, no, this is what I meant.” Kate grimaces and rearranges the items on her lap. Sandy sits down on the ground next to Pluto and rubs her ears.

“Good, because we’ve got you covered.” Jacob begins picking stuff back up, narrating as he goes. “I don’t know what kind of movies you like, so we’ve got all kinds. Chick flicks, action movies, and the whole first season of _Leyendas_ \--don’t worry, we can turn on the English subtitles. Anthony got all the snacks so if they’re shit, blame him--”

 

“Hey!”

“Es la verdad, bro.” He hands Anthony the movies and shifts the food to the floor. “This is the best blanket _ever_ , because it’s warm and soft and we’ll all fit underneath. Um--I stole the heat packs and pills from my mom, so they have to come home with me later. Sorry. But you can use them for now. You just, like, put them in the microwave, I think?”

Katie bites her lip and tries not to be supremely awkward. “I know how they work.”

“Right. Anyway. We just thought maybe you’d be cool with watching a few movies and hanging with us tonight. ¿Está bien?”

She surveys what’s laid out before her. A slow smile spreads across her face.

“Sí. Está bien.”

Jacob pounds a fist into the air. “Alright! It’s party time! Santiago, find a microwave. Anthony, find a disc player. Pidge, find something good to eat.”

Katie swings her legs down onto the ground and rifles through the snacks while the boys buzz around the basement. “Sandy, the microwave’s upstairs. You went through the kitchen on your way down here.”

He detaches himself from the dog reluctantly and grabs the heating pads. “How long do I put them in for?”

“Two minutes,” Jacob answers for her, unfolding the giant blanket. “What? I have a mom and two older sisters. I know how this works.”

“Right. I just didn’t expect you to be so… good at it.”

Jacob looks her in the eye, serious. “I take care of mi familia.”

Katie nods her thanks.

“What do you want to watch?” Anthony asks from over by the wall screen. “My vote is for _The Avengers_ , but it’s up to you. It’s the fourth one, so it really only make sense if you’ve seen the first three and, like, the other bajillion other movies in the Marvel Universe."

“Sounds good.” Katie settles with a bag of pretzels, and pulls the bag open despite the protesting muscles in her arms. She pops a few in her mouth and holds out the bag to Jacob. He takes a handful and eats them while they wait for the others to return.

Anthony gets the movie to work by a hitting a few buttons at random, and Sandy clambers back down the stairs shortly after. “Lights on or off?” he asks, hand hovering over the switch.

“Just leave them on,” Katie replies. “You can’t see anything otherwise.”

Jacob sits down on the couch next to her, and Anthony takes the spot next to him. Sandy hands her the heating packs and squeezes in on the other end. Jacob holds the blanket at the ready to spread over them.

“You can sit like you were before, if that’s more comfortable” he says to Katie. “With your feet up. We don’t mind having your legs on our laps.”

In response, Katie lifts her legs and maneuvers them over her friends, but that sets off another round of cramps. She doubles over herself in pain. Lets out a quiet whimper.

A hand rubs her back. “Estará bien, paloma pequeña.”

She nods.

“How will you deal with this when you’re at the Garrison?” Sandy’s voice floats just above the sound of the television. The main menu sequence replays for the third time.

Her muscles loosen enough that she can lean back again. “I don’t know,” she admits. “Usually it’s not this bad. But I’ll just do what I can to act normal, I guess.”

“Díos,” mutters Sandy. His face looks as stricken as Katie thinks hers must.

Katie takes a level breath, trying to focus not on the pain or on the words she can use to conceal it, but rather on her friends, and how lucky she is to have them. She can’t imagine anyone else doing this for her, and it warms her heart enough to push away some of her pain.

Jacob drapes the blanket across all of them and collects more snacks on top of it. Anthony tears into a package of Pop-Tarts with particular enthusiasm, and Sandy pulls his legs up to his chest, looking vaguely uncomfortable with the whole situation. Katie doesn’t blame him, and admires that he came anyway. A rolling in her gut that might be a cramp and might be something else makes her think that leaving for the Garrison next month will be harder than she first intended.

But Pidge doesn’t show his pain, so instead Katie aims finger guns at Anthony. “Let’s watch a movie.”

***

It’s nearly midnight when the boys leave. Katie’s cramps have calmed down somewhat, thanks to the drugs, heat packs, and company, so she can hardly keep her eyes open while they pack up.

“Thank you guys for coming over tonight,” she yawns, standing to fold up the blanket. It’s a two person job, so Sandy takes the other side. “It really means a lot.”

“Are you feeling better?” Sandy asks. His arms barely stretch across the blanket’s width, and one side of his curly hair is pressed down from where he fell asleep on Anthony’s shoulder halfway through _Mulan_. She’s not sure how he could have slept through Jacob’s loud singing--he insists he knows every lyric _purely_ because his abuela grew up with the movie and made him and his sisters watch it a lot as kids--but he did.

Anthony had narrated along with his version of the story, substituting each of them in for one of the characters. Katie had been Mulan, of course, and Jacob had been dubbed the angry guy, Anthony the big friendly one, and Sandy the skinny one who kept losing teeth. She’d protested adamantly to his and Jacob’s jibes when the love interest came on screen, and insisted that she would _not_ get distracted by a boy while at the Garrison any more than she was going to save China.

Once all the stuff is packed up, she hugs them all and shows them out the door.

She turns around and sees her mom in the doorway to the kitchen. “Who were they?”

“Friends. From school.”

“You've never hung out with friends from school before. Do they go to one of the private schools you're applying to?”

Mom looks tired--robe on, jewelry off, and make-up wiped away so the bags under her eyes are plainly visible. Katie knows she would have been asleep hours ago if the guys hadn't been here. Now that they're gone, she wishes they could both go to bed.

“No. They go to public school.”

“You've never mentioned them before. You met them in school, you said?”

Katie suppresses a groan. Even though she feels better than earlier, she's still in no mood to deal with this right now. “I met them about a month ago. They're helping me with school.”

“ _They're_ helping _you_?”

Well, it’s now or never.

“They’re helping me get into school. At the Galaxy Garrison.”

Her mom blinks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that… we should probably sit down. This will take quite a bit of explaining.” Katie steps toward the living room, already regretting this conversation. She flicks on a lamp as she passes it and sits down on the couch. It’s not as comfortable as the one in the basement--that or she’s just not looking forward to this nearly as much as she was a movie night with the guys.

Mom stands in front of a chair on Katie’s left, but doesn’t sit. “You were banned from Garrison grounds--you can’t go to school there.”

“Katie Holt can’t go to school there,” she corrects, and takes one last breath. “So I’m applying as someone else. A boy.”

She braces herself for Mom’s reaction.

“ _Katie_ ,” is all she says.

“My placement test is next Saturday and I’ve been studying really hard.” Her mom says nothing, so she continues, like it will help. “And the guys have been teaching me how to be a boy, so I won’t get caught. I _have_ to go to the Garrison, Mom.”

Her mom looks down at her hands, and picks at a chip in her fingernail polish. She wavers slightly on her feet. “When were you planning on telling me this, Katie?”

“I don’t know. Once I got it all figured out, probably.”

“Did you ever think that I might have a few objections?” Mom looks up at her now, a slight quiver in her voice. She wasn’t expecting to be up this late, either. Now neither of them will be sleeping anytime soon.

“Well… yeah. That’s why I haven’t told you yet. I didn’t want you to freak out.”

“And you thought that I would take it better if you sprung this on me less than a _month_ before you planned on leaving? Or was telling me the night before your plan? Maybe even the morning of--or a letter in the mail once you were already gone?” Mom runs a hand through her hair, and when she lets it fall back to her side, her mask of perfection is cracked.

Katie falters at the sight of her mother, so plainly shaken. She’s only seen her like this twice before--the day the officers came to the house, and the day she stopped watching the news. She hadn’t expected this to affect her so much. “Mom, that’s not what I--I just wanted to have it all planned out before I told you, so I could convince you that this is a good idea. I have to--”

“A good idea? It will take a lot of convincing to make me think this is a good idea. What sort of planning have you done for this, other than found three kids on the street to teach you acting skills?”

Her mouth works, trying to form words. “Well, I... I’ve been practicing. And I’ve created a whole new identity--Pidge is all over the internet, so anyone that looks him up will be able to find him like he’s existed forever. And I’ve been studying a lot so I’ll be able to place into a higher year, and I’ve been lifting with the guys so I’ll be stronger.” Katie splays her hands, suddenly struck by how short her list sounds when she says it out loud. She should be able to say more, but she’s run out.  
“  
No, you’ll never pass as a boy like that. What about your boobs? Do you have something to flatten your chest with? Do you have a plan for never taking your clothes off in front of anyone? You’d be _living_ there, you know--privacy is impossible. What about when you get your period? How will you carry tampons with you and make sure no one sees them? And your cramps, what was your plan to deal with those? Because if tonight is any indication, those will be very hard to hide. What if you get sick, what will you do then?”

Katie is stunned.

“And what if it _does_ work? What if you--what if you get sent into space? You can’t keep that kind of secret out there. How long are you planning on keeping this deception alive?”

She doesn’t have the answers. The lamp hums through the silence and casts shadows across Mom’s face. “I don’t know,” Katie admits.

Her mother presses her lips into a line and breathes deeply through her nose. “Of course you don’t. You are so _smart_ , Katie, but you never think about these things. You get so _stuck_ on your goals that you miss what’s important.” Her hands knead together, shaking, the tips of manicured fingernails waving in the still night air. Tears well in her eyes. “You can’t do this, Katie. You can’t go to the Garrison and follow their footsteps. You can’t--you can’t leave me too.”

She doesn’t mention Mr. Hernandez. She doesn’t tell Katie that she is a child stuck in some stage of grieving and that she’s wrong to need answers. She doesn’t say anything other than the words that hurt Katie more than the other arguments ever could.

“I can’t lose you. You’re all I have left.”

The moisture spills over onto her cheeks and suddenly her whole body is shaking like that single tear is a switch that lets her show how broken she is.

Katie’s breath catches. “Mom, you won’t lose me…” she tries, but realizes as she says it how wrong she is. The only times she could possibly come home, even though it’s only a forty minute bike ride, is over Christmas and summer--a month or two out of twelve. And this for her entire enrollment at the Garrison, and then after graduation… what? When she becomes Pidge there will be no room left for Katie. And then her mom will be alone. She feels tears gathering in her own eyes now. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”

Her mom finally sits down, struck by the weight of her admissions.

“Mom, I’ve found evidence that the Garrison is lying about what happened on Kerberos. If I can get just a little bit more, and collect proof, then I can mount a case against them. Open an investigation, and then we’ll really know what happened to Dad and Matt. I have to do this for them. I have to do it for us--we all deserve the truth. For closure at the very least.”

Katie studies her mother’s face, waiting for any sign of response, of acceptance. There is a silence so long she feels the sun should be coming up soon. But the stars are still outside, twinkling in all of their secrets.

“Mom, _please_. Let me do this.”

Her eyes dart up to meet Katie’s. She hasn’t begged her mother for anything since she was a child. She became too stubborn and independent to do such a thing, and now the rawness of her plea scrapes in her throat like a clawed beast. Her mom _has_ to listen to her. She has to see the determination in her eyes, the conviction that has driven her to work past the pain of healing wounds and the exhaustion of pushing herself beyond what she thought possible. Katie needs to do this more than she’s needed anything in her life.

Mom sighs. “You’re so much like them, Katie. Like Matt and Sam.” Her voice breaks when she says their names, but she speaks through the jagged edges on her words. Katie thinks they must make her mouth bleed. “Before Matt left he let me hold him one last time, and he told me that you were his best friend and he couldn’t imagine going so long without you. It broke his heart to leave, and Sam’s too. I _miss_ them. So much. I wish I didn’t have to miss you, too. But I know I can’t stop you without really losing you forever.”

Her mother stands and shuffles from the room like a ghost. She shuts the door to the bedroom she used to share with her husband and leaves Katie to process what just happened.

She has no idea.

Katie drags her aching body from the couch and up the stairs, feeling everything her mind is too numb to comprehend. Not for the first time, it’s going to be a long and sleepless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clenches fist* THE MAMA HOLT FEEEEEEEEEELS  
> Spanish Translations:  
> Bueno. Se siente mejor pronto, chica. Adiós = Okay. Feel better soon, friend. Bye.  
> Es la verdad = It's the truth  
> Estará bien, paloma pequeña = It will be okay, little pigeon


	8. Take Care of Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories plague Katie as she tries to fall asleep.  
> A.K.A. Feelings. Lots and lots of feelings.

Katie misses her family, too.

She’s denied the extent of it for months, and focused instead on her search for answers. But now the memories bubble to the surface of her mind like she’s drowning and they’re the last of her air. Now all she has to breathe back in is water and it burns her lungs.

Her earliest memory is of her first take-your-daughter to work today. Mom was always the traditional sort of mother, which meant that her work was at home taking care of Matt and Katie. Her dad, on the other hand, worked at the Galaxy Garrison, a sprawling building past the edges of the city. Katie was proud when she walked all the way from the front gate to the entrance all by herself, but after that she’d let Dad carry her around.

The Garrison was huge, and it felt even bigger under the legs of a four year old.

Even back then, Katie had known it was where she belonged. The rooms filled with computer screens dazzled her eyes, the click of boots on polished concrete felt like home in her ears, and even the calm simulator ride Dad had taken her on left Katie with a need for more. Mom loved to tell the story when family came over about how after that day, she would talk about nothing else for months.

As she grew up, not much changed. She pestered her dad for updates from the Garrison every day at dinner, and when Matt had gone away to school at fifteen, she envied him as fiercely as only six year olds knew how. Not many siblings could say they had such a strong bond with each other, especially at such an age difference, but she and Matt did. They wrote letters dutifully back and forth because of the limited outside communication allowed to cadets. Katie required extensive help from her parents to compose them at first, but learned quickly to write and write well. As the years passed, she grew accustomed to coming home from school every Friday to a letter from her brother. He would detail to her his life as a cadet so thoroughly that she felt she lived there with him. She mostly told him about the projects she was working on or give him updates on the family, because school bored her and so did most of the kids there. He distracted her from how badly she didn’t fit in.

When he came home, in the month of December and over the summer, Katie felt whole. Matt was busy, of course, because even away from the Garrison a cadet’s work never ended, but he always found time for his little sister and best friend. She learned more from him in three months than she ever did in a school year, about computers and outer space and about life. They told each other things that they didn’t have the courage to tell anyone else.

“I wish Oma would quit asking me if I found a girlfriend at school yet,” Matt sighed, and flopped back on his bed. It was winter break for him, but Kate had a whole week left before she got to be on vacation. She sat cross-legged on the floor of her brother’s room, disassembling a robotic toy she’d stolen from someone at school. She was remarkably good at theft for a fifth grader.

Katie brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why does everyone want you to have a girlfriend? Most of the boys in my class are only friends with boys. They say girls have cooties.”

Matt chuckled.

“I don’t have cooties,” she assured him. “I always wash my hands so the cooties go away.”

“I think you mean germs, Katie,” he said, and sat up with a small smile. “But that’s not the kind of girlfriend they mean. It’s like--you know how Mom and Dad love each other? They want me to fall in love with a girl like that.”

Katie pried a plastic panel away from the robot’s chest, revealing chips and wires underneath. She frowned. “But when the adults ask me if the boys I get in fights with are my boyfriend, they don’t think I love them, right? People who love each other shouldn’t fight. So do you love your girlfriends and fight your boyfriends? Because that’s silly. I want to fight some of the girls and much as the boys. And I don’t love any of them.”

“Uh--” Matt ran a hand through his hair. “I could have sworn when I was your age that I understood this better. Haven’t you ever had a crush on someone?”

“I don’t think so. But the kids at school have crushes on other kids. They say they like someone, and when they say ‘like’, they say it all funny.” Katie shrugged, not really interested in their conversation so much as reversing the robot’s controls. When it magically reappeared at school on Monday, she would delight at the shock on the owner’s face at the new… upgrades.

“Okay, that’s close enough,” Matt said, and the sound of trepidation in his voice made Katie look up from her work. He wasn’t usually nervous around his little sister. “Girlfriends and boyfriends, they’re the same. It just means that you _like_ the person a lot, and they like you back.”

“So why don’t you like it when Oma asks if you have a girlfriend?”

Matt considered her words before answering. It was strange, seeing him so careful to speak. “Because Oma grew up in a time when people were told that girls could only have boyfriends, and boys could only have girlfriends. And there are some people who still think that.”

Katie thought through this new information. She _had_ seen a lot of people in twos, one boy and one girl. But she’d also seen two boys and two girls, and she thought that if it was just saying “like” in a funny way it shouldn’t matter if you meant a boy or a girl. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, and Katie had heard him say that so few times in her life that the robot lay forgotten in her hands. “Because that’s what their Omas and Opas told them and they believe it.”

“You don’t want a girlfriend, do you?”

Matt looked down at his hands, as slender as hers though his knuckles were slightly wider. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s okay. I don’t want a girlfriend either.”

“That’s not--”

“Or a boyfriend. So you can have all the boyfriends instead. That’s what being gay is, isn’t it?”

Matt bit his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. “Have you been leading me on this whole time?”

Katie shrugged and returned to the robot. “Only a little.”

“So this is how I come out to my little sister. Alright. Could have been worse, I guess.” Matt let out a shaky laugh, and Katie could tell how relieved he was, even though she was the person he could tell anything to. She wondered what had happened to make this so hard for him.

“I just have one question,” Katie said, rearranging some wires.

Matt looked at her, more comfortable now than moments ago, but still slightly wary. “What?”

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend yet?”

Matt threw a pillow at her.

If Katie is doing this for anyone, it’s for Matt. 

He went on a few dates before graduating from the Garrison, and--even though he hated admitting it to Katie because she got such a stupid grin on her face--had made out with some very attractive men before leaving Earth. But he never fell in love, and if love is anything like he told Katie it is, then she can’t bear the thought of him never having it. He never got a chance to come out to the whole family, so Katie was the one who heard all of his stories, saw the twinkle in his eyes when he talked to her about finding the right guy. She needs to get him back so that someone else can see that twinkle--so that someone will fall in love with him one day.

After telling Katie he was gay, Matt came to her for a lot of things. She was hardly an expert, but regardless of that Katie had always taken particular delight in his antics over boys. Her favorite incident came shortly after Matt and her dad had been assigned to the Kerberos mission.

It was standard practice for the crew to get full files on the other crewmembers, because in order to survive months in space together, they had to know all the important information like allergies and family history and grades.

Katie was in her room, reading up on a new code language when Matt and Dad had gotten home. They were gone most of the time now, even though it was summer, in order to prepare for their mission. She tried not to think about the fact that in just a few short months, the two of them would be in outer space and she would be left on Earth without them. But in a year she would be old enough to start school at the Garrison, and then just seven years after that she would be in space, too.

She heard the door open and close downstairs, and the sounds of them greeting Mom. Then there were feet pounding up the stairs, more enthusiastic than usual.

Matt actually _kicked_ her door open.

“Katie!” he whisper-yelled. “Help! He’s _hot_.”

“What?”

Her brother threw a folder at her and flung himself on the bed next to her, face down. Katie reached for the file and undid the tie around it. On the front was a name she’d seen before. “Is this the file on your pilot?” she asked, even though it was obvious.

Matt nodded into her mattress.

Katie flipped open the cover and tapped a finger on the photograph paperclipped to the inside. She studied the black hair and sharp eyes with eyelashes too thick to be natural, and the kind of grin that Katie _knew_ Matt was a sucker for. Then, she started laughing. “Oh no, Matt. Yeah--you’re way too gay to handle this.”

He grabbed her pillow and shoved it against his face, letting out a strangled cry. “I can’t go into space with him! There’s no way I can be professional around _that_!”

Katie dissolved into giggles, and as full realization struck she let out the least ladylike of all snorts. “And Matt! You can’t even try to mack on this guy because you’re going on the mission with Dad!” she gasped.

Matt screamed louder into the pillow.

Katie fell against him, breathless with laughter.

Those are the sort of things Katie misses most about them. She still sneaks into Matt’s room sometimes, when she’s feeling especially lonely. At her worst, she talks to his walls like he’s there to listen to her tears and wrap her into a hug like he always used to. Her parents could always offer the kind of advice parents give, but no one ever understood her like Matt. Even the guys, as much as she loves them, aren’t close enough to her yet. They don’t know everything he does.

And they never will, because in less than a month she will be at the Garrison and they’ll be in school and they probably won’t stay in touch. That idea hurts her more than Katie wants to admit.

She wonders if her mom wants her to maintain contact. She doesn’t know anymore.

“Katie, I need you to take care of your mom while Matt and I are gone,” Dad said, bent over to put his arms on his daughter’s shoulders. His tone was the earnest sort that he only got when he was being really serious. Most of the time laughter hid at the corner of his eyes, but now it was gone. Katie knew he meant his words. “You need to take care of each other.”

“How do I take care of her? She’s _mom_ ,” Katie replied, almost uncomfortable under his gaze. He was so different now from the dad who joked about freeze-dried vegetables.

“By being there for her. She’s going to miss us as much as we miss you two, so you need to be there for her, no matter what. Okay?”

She nodded solemnly. “Okay. I’ll take care of her.”

Katie lets out a deep, frustrated sigh and stares up at the darkness. She doesn’t want to remember that conversation because she’s failed so totally to keep her promise, but the words swirl through her head like a sandstorm. She wants to scream, but she can’t.

Instead, she sits up and motions her lamp on, reaching into her nightstand and rummaging inside until her fingers find the edges of a photograph. She pulls it into the light.

It’s of the day before the launch of the Kerberos mission. The family had flown down to NASA headquarters in Florida, and the Garrison had put them up in an amazing hotel. There was lots of media attention, of course, so Katie had been told by her mother to be on her best behavior, which meant play the role of perfect little sister. She’d worn a new dress, purple with a white front, and a matching headband. Even though it was hot, she left her hair down. Her mom was similarly dressed up, and the boys were in full uniform as they had been since arriving in the sunshine state. If anything, her family could keep up appearances.

“Mom! Mom, get a picture of me and Matt in front of the shuttle,” Katie insisted, ecstatic at being allowed on the launch grounds so close to departure. She could almost feel the energy it would take to lift the rocket from the earth--felt it like it was all inside her.

“Alright, go stand over there. Matt, get a picture with your sister.”

Katie saw how hard Matt was trying to be cool about this. Here, he was in the public eye and had to act calm and mature. But in their hotel room, with the reporters left tens of floors below them, he could hardly contain himself. He was excited and scared like Katie had never seen. At twenty-two he seemed much too young to be going into space, but he would not have been chosen if he wasn’t ready. Katie knew that and so did everyone else.

Matt stepped over to Katie and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against him in a quick hug before Mom snapped the photo. Matt struck the pose that Katie had told him looked good _once_ , and now he used every time. She was barely finished rolling her eyes when she heard the click of the camera. “Looks good,” Mom said, and waved them back over to her. They were due for a meeting in a matter of minutes and had to get moving.

Katie printed out the photos from that trip the week after the Kerberos mission left. The one of her and Matt had become an instant favorite. She isn’t sure how she can possibly leave it behind when she goes to the Garrison.

She swallows her tears and puts the picture away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part about Matt being "too gay for this" with Shiro was inspired by this tumblr post: http://shiroshusband.tumblr.com/post/146634538870/ok-but-imagine-matt-got-a-file-that-contained-info


	9. I Swear I've Done This Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A placement exam, some shopping, and a night with the boys leaves Katie thinking about her role in life.

“What are we going to do about your hair?”

Sandy lifts a fingerful of hair off Katie’s shoulder. She rolls her arms, getting used to the feel of Jacob’s clothes on her body. Her binders haven’t come in the mail yet, and she hasn’t bought any boy clothes of her own, so she’s wearing a pair of his shorts and two sports bras underneath a baggy tshirt.

Katie looks down at herself. “I don’t know. Put it in a hat?”

“You’re going to wear a hat to an exam in the middle of summer?” Jacob stands with arms crossed on the other side of Katie’s bedroom. His mom gave all the boys in his family a haircut yesterday, so--according to Anthony--they all look like they’re wearing black socks on their heads. Katie isn’t sure what that has to do with anything, but his hair is less than half an inch long now. She was startled by the drastic change in his appearance at first, but has gotten used to it.

“Unless you can come up with something better,” Anthony says from behind Katie. Then fingers brush against Katie’s calves and she dances away.

“Anthony, what the hell?” she demands, trying not to laugh. She’s _ticklish_ , damn it.

He pops back up from his crouch. “I just wanted to see if your leg hair was soft. Girls complain about how prickly their legs are when they don’t shave.”

“Mine stopped being itchy weeks ago.” Katie hikes up her leg and rubs away the lingering sensation. “The worst part was when we had the whole family over for my Oma’s birthday last week I had to wear leggings and a long-sleeved shirt so that none of them would know I haven’t shaved since the end of June.”

“Your hair’s so light anyway,” Sandy says. “I don’t see why it matters. You can’t even see it.”

Katie shrugs. “Someone’s bound to notice, and not enough guys shave their legs and pits for it to keep me from getting attention for it. And shaving is too much work.”

“See, the best part about this,” Anthony drawls as he crosses the room to stand next to Jacob, “is that you will eventually have to shave your face. Like, _daily_ , so no one questions how baby soft your skin is. It’s what Jacob does, and my, my--your skin is _smooth_.”

He rests one arm on Jacob’s shoulder and uses the other to stroke the side of his face with his knuckles. Jacob darts away and holds up his hands with fingers curled. “What is it with you and touching today?”

Anthony grins at his friend. “What can I say? I’m in a good mood. We finally get to see the results of all our hard work.”

“All _your_ hard work?” Katie repeats, hands working above her head to make a tight braid. She’ll leave her bangs out and hide the rest in a hat. “I don’t recall you relearning your entire personality.”

“Sí, but we helped,” counters Jacob. “And it wasn’t your entire personality--Pidge and Katie are a lot alike.”

She wraps the last few strands of her hair together and pins the braid against her scalp. “I need a hat. Like, a beanie or something. There’s probably one in Matt’s room--I’ll be right back.” She leaves the boys behind and crosses the hallway to her brother’s bedroom. When she pushes the door open, she can’t help but notice how the dust motes float thickly through the room. Usually when she’s in here it’s dark and she can’t see them. But now it’s obvious--her brother has been gone for a long time.

There are several hats in one of his drawers. She picks a grey one and positions it on her head before returning, using Matt’s mirror to touch up her appearance.

Katie strikes a manly pose in her doorway.

“Who’s ready to take a placement exam?” she asks in a deep voice.

The boys all look over at her at once. A smile lights up Jacob’s face, Sandy blinks in shock, and Anthony rolls his eyes and groans.

“Dear god, Katie. Tell me that’s not the voice you’re going to use today.” Anthony puts his head in his hands. “You won’t make it past the front door without being discovered.”

“Of course not. I’m not an idiot,” she says. “It just seemed appropriate.”

Jacob can barely hold back his laughter. “You were wrong. You were so wrong.”

“Shut up. Pidge will fight you and he will _win_.”

“No one talks about themself in the third person. Do the walk.” Anthony gestures to Katie and to the room, beckoning her to show off Pidge’s walk.

She thinks through all the things she’s practiced before taking her first step. When she’s made it across the room to where the boys stand, they applaud her.

“Nicely done.”

“Muy bien.”

“Looks good.”

“Thanks. Should we get going?”

Katie reaches for her backpack, which feels too light without her computer in it but electronics are not allowed in the testing center.

Jacob puts a hand on her arm. “You can’t take that.”

“Why not?” She pulls her hand back like the bag will burn her.

“It’s too girly,” Anthony agrees. “There are _flowers_ on it--and that color scheme? No way Pidge would carry that around. He’s more of an orange and green type of guy.”

Katie bites her lip. “How do _you_ know what colors Pidge likes?”

“Third person,” Sandy reminds.

“How do you know what colors _I_ like?”

Anthony shrugs. “I’m very perceptive. But here--let’s trade bags until you’re done with the test.” He lifts his backpack from next to Katie’s bed and empties it onto the comforter. Katie does the same with her own, and once they finish the exchange she threads her arms through the straps.

“La cicatriz makes you look like a badass,” Jacob says.

Katie raises an eyebrow. “The what?”

“The scar,” Anthony finishes for him. “And yeah, it really sells the guy thing. Girls don’t usually have face scars.”

Katie wrinkles her nose and puts her hand reflexively to the skin there. She pulled off the last of her scabs three days ago, and the flesh underneath is harder than the rest. It’ll be back to normal in another month or so, but Anthony’s right. This will help. “I’ll tell the guy who hit me with his van thanks the next time I see him. Shit--what time is it?”

Anthony looks at his watch. “Eight thirty.”

She curses louder and jumps toward the door. “I’m supposed to be at the testing center in ten minutes. You know where the front door is, right? I’ve got to go. I’ll see you guys later!”

Katie leaves the boys behind and races out, thankful for the excuse to not talk to her mom. The guys’ calls of “Adios” and “Bye, Pidge!” follow her down the stairs.

***

“Photo I.D. and confirmation ticket please,” the woman says, looking up from her clipboard. She holds out her hand to Katie.

Katie touches her hat nervously, but surrenders the counterfeited state I.D. and Pidge’s--hers?--his?--entry ticket. “Pidge Gunderson,” she says, trying not to hold her breath while the moderator examines her papers.

“You’re pretty young,” she observes. “A lot of fourteen year olds wait a year before applying. This is a demanding program.”

“I know, ma’am,” Katie responds. The slight variations in her voice feel sloppy on her tongue. “But I’m ready.”

“Well, good luck.” The woman waves her into the testing center. She looks tired, like she drew the short straw to be today’s test moderator. Probably she’s a cadet at the Garrison, and by the looks of her she’s no more than a third year. Whatever the cause of her apathy, Katie breathes a sigh of relief. The hard part is over--now all she has to do is nail this placement test.

Which, of course, she does.

If there’s one thing Katie does well, it’s technology. She likes technology better than people. It doesn’t lie or keep things from her. And when she is working with technology, it doesn’t matter what her name is, or whether she’s a girl or a boy or anything else. All that matters is that she knows what to do, and with technology, she always does.

She walks out of the test trying to smother a grin. Sweat has soaked into the fabric of her beanie from hours of hard thinking, but she doesn’t dare take it off until she’s far away from the testing center. With her phone in one hand and her hat and handlebars in the other, Katie calls Anthony.

He picks up on the second ring. “ _Well_?”

“Hey, Anthony. This is Pidge. Just thought I should let you and the guys know that I fucking _destroyed_ that placement exam.”

Jacob yells on the other side of the line. “¡Lo hizo! ¡ _Sabía_ que lo haría! Bien hecho, Pidge. Bien hecho.”

The sound cracks, and then Sandy’s voice comes through. “Um--sorry. They’re hugging now and Anthony dropped his phone. That’s great, Katie. We’re already at the mall, so just whenever you get here is fine.”

“Okay, cool. I’m like fifteen minutes away.”

“See you then,” he says, and hangs up. Katie slides the phone in her pocket and pedals faster.

She’s outside the mall in ten.

“Hey guys,” she calls as she squeezes the brakes on her bike. They’ve been waiting for her outside, so she can see the rings of sweat under their arms and at their collars. Katie knows she looks the same, and probably worse because she sweats so much and she’s wearing two bras.

She hops off and locks her bike to the rack outside the entrance.

Jacob tackles her in a hug with Anthony and Sandy shortly behind. Katie wraps her arms around them only briefly, and then says, “It’s too hot out for this.”

Anthony pulls back, somehow with her beanie in hand. “You’re the one who wore a hat in summer.” She rolls her eyes at him put lets him place it back on her head and tuck in the long strands that have fallen out of her braid. “You know, you make one hell of a guy, Pidge.”

She smiles back at him. “And all thanks to you guys’ hard work. But we’ve got more to do--are you ready for this?”

“Only if someone has montage music,” replies Jacob, laying a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as he steps toward the door. “If I’m going be seen _shopping_ in a _mall_ , we need montage music. I’m thinking something mid two thousands? The kind of stuff that was popular when my mom was a kid.”

Sandy digs his phone out of his pocket. “I’ve got you covered.”

He taps the screen a few times and then quiet music drifts out of it. Jacob claps him proudly on the back, muttering something Katie doesn’t understand, and then he and Anthony bob their heads in time to the music. Katie shakes her head and follows them to the door. “I hate this song.”

“You can’t shop with us if you hate this song,” Anthony fires back. “It’s _classic_.”

“Whatever. Which store to first?”

“Scheels. You need a new backpack.”

Katie looks over at her bag, still on Anthony's shoulder because they haven't bothered to trade back yet. “Fine. I think Scheels is this way.”

They find the wall of backpacks on the far side of the store, and take a moment to stare at how many of them there are. “How will we choose?” Katie whispers, running her fingers along one of the rows.

“We each pick out the one we think Pidge would like the best, and then you can decide from those,” Jacob says, all business. They split up and return in a matter of five minutes.

Katie holds out a standard green bag for inspection, with space for textbooks and a laptop. It isn't very big, but she doubts it will matter--besides, it will help her look bigger than if she had a large bag. Anthony has one that's black in the same style, Jacob hefts an army print monstrosity, and Sandy lets one that’s orange and black hang from a hand at his waist. The straps drag on the ground.

“Not Jacob’s,” Katie says right away. “You can just put that back.”

He feigns offense but hooks the bag onto a nearby hook. Then he steals Anthony’s and holds it out to her. “Alright, this one.”

She shakes her head. “Black is too… I don’t know. The style is nice but I don’t think Pidge would want a black bag. I think I like this green one.”

“A green bag gets dirty too easily,” Sandy says. “The only think it hides is grass stains, and there’s really not a lot of those around here.”

“You’re only saying that because you want us to choose your backpack,” Jacob accuses. “What makes it so good, anyway?”

Sandy shrugs and presents it to the crew. “It’s got a lot of pockets for you to put stuff in, and a laptop sleeve. And Anthony said that Pidge likes orange.”

“Let me see.” Katie holds out her hand and takes the bag, turning it over. It’s larger than the one she picked out, and she worries she will look small with it on. But maybe that will be good, because she can’t make her voice convincingly deep; if she looks smaller, they’ll just assume Pidge hasn’t hit puberty yet. It’s a ruse that will only work for so long, but she’ll take what she can get. “All the pockets will be good--if I have to steal any evidence, there are lots of places in here to hide it. Anthony, does it pass the color test?”

He considers the bag, rubbing the tough fabric between two fingers. “I think so. It’s got the right aesthetic--Pidge is low-key the coolest guy out there, you know?”

Jacob gapes openly at him. “Tengo ni idea que dijiste.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But it has my approval. And Sandy’s, obviously, because he picked it out. What do you think, Pidge?”

Katie hugs the backpack to her chest and nods to her friends, imagining that Pidge will carry this bag with him everywhere. “This is the one.”

After she goes through the checkout line, pulls the tags off, and slides the bag onto her back, Katie can’t stop grinning. Today, Pidge feels _real_. She was him this morning for the test, and now that he has something of his own--and something as important as a backpack, no less?

She’s really going to do this.

The rest of the afternoon, they wander through the mall so Katie can find the various boy-things Pidge needs. She’s been saving up the money from her paychecks at the school this summer, so she has no trouble paying for it all. She feels a little guilty every time the cashier rings her up, because she knows her friends wouldn’t be able to afford all that she’s buying. After a while, the three of them conveniently disappear whenever she goes to the checkout line.

Seven t-shirts, five pairs of shorts, three sweatshirts, a package each of boxers and socks, and two pairs of shoes later, Pidge has as full of a wardrobe as he’ll need at the Garrison. The cadets spend a lot of time in uniform, so a few pairs of street clothes will be fine. The guys also point Katie in the direction of various toiletries, like shampoo in a manly scent and a new razor.

Amazingly, it all fits into her new backpack.

Jacob invites them out to his family’s apartment for the evening, and they head there as soon as their errands are finished. Katie locks her bike outside and the boys carry their skateboards up the three flights of stairs to where Jacob lives. “Your mom’s gone tonight, isn’t she?” Sandy asks.

“Yeah, and my little brother and sister are staying at mi tio’s until she gets back, so the apartment is all ours.” Jacob does a quick hip-shake for emphasis as they stop in front of a door. “You guys can totally stay over if you want.”

Sandy doesn’t step through the door when the others do. “I’ll have to ask my dad. I’ll be right back.” He waves a quick goodbye and Katie hears his footsteps recede down the hall to his own apartment. Jacob and Anthony have been friends since preschool, but Sandy only met them when his family moved into the building a few years ago.  
Anthony crosses the room and sprawls on a faded couch with infinite familiarity. “Why is your mom gone?”

“She has a job interview,” Jacob answers, rooting through cabinets for some food. “A fancy one a few towns over. Important enough that they paid to put her up in a hotel for the night.”

He pulls out a box of macaroni and cheese and sets it on the counter, turning his search for a pot. Katie leans her backpack against a doorframe and joins Anthony on the couch.

Anthony sits up and turns to his friend. “And if she gets it?”

Jacob shrugs. “We move there. She’s already looked at apartments in the area and I guess they’re cheaper than here, and with the pay raise she’d be getting, it’s not like we can refuse.” He places the pot, now filled with water, on the stove and starts the burner.

Anthony stiffens, his eyebrows lowering and his lips pressing into a line. “When will she know if she got the job?”

He fiddles with the knob on the stove, then reads over the directions on the mac and cheese box. “Pretty soon. I don’t know—she hasn’t really talked with me much about it.”

Anthony catches Katie staring at him, and his face drops the worry of moments before as if Katie wasn’t supposed to see it. There’s a knock at the door and Anthony jumps up from the couch as Jacob yells out for Sandy to come on in.

Katie stands as well and walks over to the small kitchen. “Do you want some help making food?”

“No, está bien. I’m the master of macaroni.”

His words lack their usual brightness, but Katie doesn’t comment. He’s trying to put on a brave face, but Katie can tell he’s almost as scared at the prospect of him leaving the city as Anthony is.

“Katie, if you’re tired of wearing my clothes, my sister’s room is down the hall—you can take a pair of her sweatpants or something. She only visits every month or so anymore, so she won’t miss them.”

“That’d be great, actually,” she replies, mostly anxious to get out of her own sweat stains. Being in the air conditioning again is nice, but in damp fabric she’s getting cold. 

“Where?”

“Anthony, take Pidge to get some of Christina’s clothes,” orders Jacob.

“Make Sandy do it. I’m stealing some of yours—I haven’t sweated this much in weeks and it itches like crazy.”

“That’s nasty, man. Bring me a different shirt.”

“Can do,” Anthony says and bounces away. Katie and Sandy follow him but turn into one of the other two doorways in the hall. She notices that he’s already in a different set of clothes and that his face has been wiped off—his skin lacks its usual oily sheen and some of the zits are an irritated red.

“Um—I think this one is his older sister’s.” Sandy rests a hand on one of two dressers in the room. “Just, uh. Find something. Throw the other stuff in the laundry basket in Jacob’s room.”

“Thanks,” Katie says, but he’s already out the door and closed it behind him. She shrugs, long since used to his awkwardness, and opens one of the drawers. When she finds nothing but shorts and jeans, she tries another. This one has bras and pajamas and a few pairs of sweatpants. She pulls soft gray ones out and finds a t-shirt next. Christina’s clothes are a lot bigger than Katie usually wears, but she ties the strings tight on the pants so they work. It’s easier to breathe once she’s taken off her second sports bra. Katie wads up Jacob’s clothes in one hand and stuffs her bra into one of the pockets of the sweatpants.

When she gets back into the kitchen, Jacob has just finished pulling on a replacement shirt. She glimpses Anthony very purposefully _not_ looking at Jacob as she crosses to her backpack and stuffs the sports bra—and her socks, though her feet probably smell terrible—inside. There’s a clattering of pasta as Jacob dumps the box into the now-boiling water.

“So what do you guys want to do tonight?” he asks. “Also—pigeon, make sure your mom knows where you’re at. When you left this morning, even Anthony could tell she was worried about you.”

“Hey!”

“Face it, you’re as dense as a rock. But really. Have you told her about your plan yet?”

Katie settles back onto the couch with her legs curled underneath her. “I actually told her the night you guys came to watch movies at my house.”

Her tone makes Anthony perk up. He vaults the back of the couch and lands next to her. Sandy sits on the carpet, as is his habit. She never sees him on a chair if he can help it. Jacob stirs the macaroni and fixes her with a questioning glare.

“What happened?” Anthony demands. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It was…” Katie splays her hands. “A lot. I thought she would be mad at me and try to make me change my mind, but she didn’t. She was just sad, mostly.”

“Have you talked to her since?” Sandy asks, and Katie turns to see him picking at his fingernails.

“Not really,” she admits.

“You’re only going to be here for another two weeks,” he points out, still not looking at her. “None of us want to waste the time we have left with you—her especially, I’m sure. You should try to make up with her before you leave.”

“It’s not that easy.”

He looks up at her finally, eyes wide and maybe a little sad. “It never is. But you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“Sandy’s right,” Jacob agrees.

Katie squirms. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“Good.” He carries the pot of macaroni to the sink and dumps out the excess water. “Anthony, the cheese, if you please.”

“I hate you,” mutters Anthony as he climbs back over the couch and snatches the cheese pouch from the counter, right next to Jacob. He tears it open and squeezes it into the pasta while Jacob stirs. “You’re literally the only one who still thinks that’s funny.”

Jacob bumps his hip against Anthony, who elbows him back. Katie texts her mom that she’ll be home tomorrow morning, and Sandy succeeds in biting off a hangnail.

They eat macaroni and cheese from styrofoam bowls—because Jacob doesn’t like washing dishes—and somehow all end up sitting on the floor with Sandy. Anthony sits in between Katie and Jacob, sprawled with an arm behind both of them, and Sandy’s laying on his stomach a few feet away, trying to get the spoon to stick to his nose.

“I swear I’ve done this before,” he assures them, going crosseyed trying to look at the utensil.

“We believe you,” Katie says. “You don’t have to prove it.”

“No, no, Pidge,” chides Jacob. “For boys, it is _very_ important to prove yourself. Like, with everything. It’s very similar to everything being a competition.”

Katie looks at him. “Sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he says with more conviction that she expects. “But we don’t really have a choice. It’s just what it is—and you have to learn to do the same.”

“Why don’t you have a choice?”

Jacob blinks, and Anthony looks between him and Katie. Sandy lets the spoon drop to the carpet.

“N-no sé,” he splutters, taken off guard by the question. “We just don’t. There are things that boys do and things that girls do.”

“But you obviously don’t like to do them. So why do you?”

He shifts uncomfortably, redness creeping into his cheeks. “Because I have to learn how to be a man. I have to think about my future, and my future family because a real man takes care of his family.”

Jacob swallows a lump in his throat.

“He doesn’t abandon them,” he finishes with venom.

Anthony moves his arm forward so it’s on Jacob’s shoulder instead of behind it. “You’ll never be like your father.”

“Not if I can help it.” Jacob shakes his head and Katie sees how his knuckles have turned white from clenching his fists. “And that’s why I have to do all that stuff--so I can be a man.”

Katie frowns. “My dad isn't like that, and he’s an amazing dad. My brother never really did any of the stuff you’ve been teaching me, either. I don’t think that makes them any less of men than anyone else.”

Jacob eyes her carefully, like he’s considering whether to respond. “It’s—it’s different for us than for you and your family.”

“Why?”

“Because it is!”

“That’s not an answer, Jacob.”

“Yes it is.”

“ _Jacob_ , just tell me.”

“It’s because you’re white!”

The words explode from him and Katie jerks back like she’s been slapped. “I don’t understand.”

“White people get to do those sorts of things. We have other things to worry about.”

“Like what?” She feels heat rise to her cheeks, indignant.

“Like--we have to worry about the boys at school who are bigger and stronger than us, who’ll beat us up for no other reason than that we can’t defend ourselves.” Jacob’s hands are still in fists, but rather than angry they look defensive. “Like paying rent. Like whether we’ll have enough money left over from it for food or if we’ll have to pretend we’re not hungry when the guys at work ask why you didn’t bring dinner with you.” His eyes flash with the memories Katie knows his mind is replaying. He turns and looks directly at her. “So of course you don’t understand, Katie. You’re not one of us—you don’t know any of the things we’ve been through.”

Her face stings, like another slap has landed on her cheek. “I have things to worry about, too! I have to find my family, and—”

“No, you _get_ to find your family,” accuses Jacob. “Do you know how much I would love to track my father down? To leave and go to a fancy school for seven years just on the _hope_ that he’s out there somewhere? I don’t have that _luxury_ , Katie. I have to stay here and work so my family can afford to survive. You got to spend all the money you’ve made this summer on a costume—all of mine went right to my mother to pay for groceries.” He jabs a finger at her empty bowl. “My money bought the macaroni you ate for _dinner_ tonight. But you never thought about that, because you don’t have to care where your next meal comes from. It must be nice.”

Katie’s mouth opens. Says nothing. She knows how right he is. It feels like she’s going to vomit.

“Jacob,” Anthony says, voice low. “That’s too far.”

“No, he’s right.” Katie swallows bile, feels cold tingling in her fingers. “I’ve been stupid. I haven’t thought about you guys at all. I’m sorry.”

The borrowed clothes feel heavy on her shoulders as she wonders just how much advantage she’s taken of her friends.

Pidge, she decides, does not live in ignorance of his own privilege.

“Lo siento tambien,” Jacob says, now looking tired more than anything. Katie wonders how many of the late shifts he’s taken in recent weeks. “I shouldn’t talk to you like that. I’m just… jealous, I guess. You’ve got so many opportunities in life that I’ll never have. But it’s not your fault you were born into the family of an astronaut.”

“But it’s my fault I’ve been acting like it. There’s no excuse.”

The three of them smile apologetically but don’t disagree. She’s glad they don’t.

“Katie has a point, though,” Anthony offers, almost like a truce. “I don’t see how fighting all the time makes anyone a better dad. Good dads care for their kids and look out for them. That’s it. And there are a lot of ways to do that.”

Because he talks so fervently with his hands, Anthony pulls them out from around Katie and Jacob to use them.

“And there are a lot of things that we can’t do that have nothing to do with being a dad,” he continues, throwing his arms through the air. “So I don’t get why we can’t do them. Like some days I just really want to take selfies because I look damn _fine_ , but apparently that’s ‘not something boys do’. I want to be able to express my emotions and tell people how I really feel and not be afraid of being made fun of for it. I just want to be _me_. You know? And maybe who I am isn’t the epitome of masculinity, but why is that so wrong? Who decided there was one way to be a man?”

He looks at all of them like they have an answer.

“I just… I just think it’s a waste to live your life by someone else’s standards. We’d all be happier if we could do what makes us happy.” His hands slow to a stop and rest on his knees. “If only it were that easy.”

“Yeah,” Sandy agrees solemnly. “I wish I didn’t have to be a boy. It’s hard, and I don’t like it. But whenever I do something I shouldn’t my dad gets mad at me. I don’t have a choice.”

“You’re getting yourself into a real mess by becoming Pidge,” Jacob says to Katie, all hints of his previous anger gone. “But I guess being a girl has its challenges, too.”

“It does.”

She could tell them how she’s never really felt like a girl, at least not in the way her cousins taught her she should be. She could tell them that she thought becoming a boy would help her find out who she really was, and she could tell them that she was wrong. She could tell them that some days she feels like a girl and others she feels like a boy but mostly she just feels like a person, and she doesn’t know why she has to choose one or the other.

But she doesn’t tell them any of that, because if it doesn’t make any sense to her it certainly won’t to them. So instead she cracks a joke to change the subject, and they all pretend to forget about the conversation they had over empty bowls of macaroni.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was a pretty heavy chapter, huh? In my original plot, there was only going to be a discussion about gender roles, but while I was writing it, I realized that there was so much more going on here that needed to be addressed. 
> 
> Spanish:  
> Lo hizo = you did it  
> Sabía que lo hizo = I knew you would  
> Bien hecho = well done  
> Tengo ni idea que dijiste = I have no idea what you said  
> No sé = I don't know  
> Lo siento tambien = I'm sorry too


	10. The One that Finds Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, everyone! I was busy yesterday night and forgot. But here--hopefully this chapter makes it up to you.

Katie sits cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, a needle pinched between her fingers and the fabric of a sweatshirt in her hand. Music plays from her laptop speakers and she hums along with it.

As much as it pains Katie to admit it, her mom’s arguments against her passing as Pidge pointed out a lot of holes in her plan. If this is going to work, then her preparations have to be foolproof. She can’t neglect a single detail.

For that reason, she’s spent three hours sewing secret pockets into all of Pidge’s clothes after work on Monday. She puts them in hemlines or under her arms, in places where no one will notice a line of tiny stitches. The pockets are only large enough to hold a single tampon and one dose of painkillers, but they needn’t be bigger than that. She just has to make sure she’ll never be caught in need and not have them. The false bottom she sewed in her backpack will hold the rest of her supplies, more than enough to get her through the months until she comes home for Christmas.

Katie pulls out a length of green thread to match the underarm of a shirt. She likes this one the best; it’s white and green, with a tall, wide collar and a pocket on the front. There are accents in orange and dark gray around the collar and across the chest. The fabric is soft and warm, which will be good because the Garrison is always colder than she likes. She turns the sweatshirt inside out and fits the thin loop of fabric against the seam in the shirt. Her stitching won’t show on the outside of this shirt because she sews the pocket like a tube on either side of the thick seam.

The knock on her doorframe startles her enough that she pokes her finger.

“Ow,” she hisses, and squeezes her thumb to see if it will bleed. “Hey, mom.”

“This came in the mail for you today,” her mom says, and holds out a cardboard box.

Katie pushes to her feet, ignoring the protests from her stiff legs, and crosses the room to collect the box from Mom. A glance at the sender confirms that it’s her binders. She hopes they fit, because she doesn’t have time to send for replacements.

She takes the box to her desk, not sure if she should open it in front of her mom, who still stands in the doorway. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing with these clothes?” Mom asks, and it doesn’t sound like an accusation. Katie eyes her warily. Sandy’s words from two nights prior buzz in her head.

“Making a few adjustments,” she explains. “They’re Pidge’s clothes.”

“Pidge?”

Katie reddens. “Oh, right. Pidge is going to be my name at the Garrison. Pidge Gunderson.”

She watches her mom’s face for a reaction. She only frowns. “Do they not fit?”

“They fit,” Katie says. “They just… what you said, when I told you about my plan. You were right. There were a lot of things I didn’t think of. I’m fixing that.” She gestures to the partially empty box of tampons next to her bed and to the sweatshirt in her hands, hoping her mom will fill in the blanks without further explanation.

Mom’s eyebrows lift, and she steps into the room, kneeling next to a pair of shorts Katie has already finished. It takes her a few moments to find the extra pouch in the bottom of one of the side pockets. “This is a very smart idea,” she says in a quiet voice. “Are you doing this to all your clothes?”

Katie nods, delighted by the praise. “As many of them as I can get away with. And my backpack--I put in a second bottom, to keep more in.” She makes a few stitches into her sweatshirt while her mother inspects the bag.

“Does the package you got today have something to do with this?”

“They’re binders,” she answers. “To flatten my chest. They’re like sports bras but--uh--different. Somehow.”

That draws a small smile from Mom, and Katie wonders how long it’s been since she’s seen her smile. Too long, certainly.

“How did your placement test go on Saturday?” she asks.

Katie’s baffled by her mother’s new interest in Katie’s plan. “Really well.”

“And when do you get results back?”

“Later this week. The test was all digital, and their grading software is top notch. I’m sure the decisions are already made, and it’s all a matter of stuffing letters into envelopes now.” As she says it, her stomach does a flip; to think that her fate is already decided is too much to bear. She already knows she’ll go to school there--the initial acceptances went out in late June--but the placement exam determines each cadet’s skill level and potential position on an exploration team. Most first years place into a first year class, of course, but Katie knows, she just _knows_ that Pidge is better than that. He’ll place into fourth or fifth year for sure.

“Matt always got so nervous about that test,” Mom says, eyes starry. “He always said he didn’t test well.”

For returning cadets, the placement exam determines if they are ready to proceed to higher classes, and if they needed special attention in any area of study. Matt always passed with flying colors, but Katie remembers how anxious he would be in the weeks leading up to the exam, seven years in a row.

Mom takes a deep breath and lets it out almost like a sigh. She sits softly on the bed. “You’re really doing this.”

The last stitch goes into the sweatshirt and Katie ties it off. “I am.”

“I went out to the Garrison last week, and talked to Commander Iverson.”

Katie scowls at the name, but her surprise at hearing that her mother went to the Garrison of her own volition outweighs her distaste. She hasn’t been there since Dad and Matt disappeared, and she refused contact from her friends there for long enough afterwards that they stopped trying. “Why? What did he have to say?”

“Nothing much, really,” replies her mother with a dainty curl to her lip. “I never liked him, but I figured I should reach out to the Garrison again, because so many of the people there have been so kind to us. I really do miss their company. And I suppose it’s been long enough.”

She blinks. Could her mother really be saying this?

“And besides, someone had to tell Iverson that my daughter will be attending a private high school in northern California this fall. You should have seen his _face_ , Katie. It was like I’d told him Christmas happened twice a year. He wanted so badly to believe it he didn’t even ask me the name of the school, only when you were leaving.”

“Mom?” Katie drops her sweatshirt, stunned. Either she’s going to send Katie away, or...

Her mother’s hands fold neatly in her lap. “Now he won’t be looking for you among the cadets. Pidge won’t get a second glance.”

Tears spring to Katie’s eyes and she flies up from the floor to bury her mom in a hug. Her arms wrap around her mother’s shoulders, for once not aching with soreness, and she squeezes tight. “Thank you.”

Mom returns the hug and lets her chin rest on Katie’s shoulder. “I love you, Katie. And I know that if the answers are out there, you’re going to be the one that finds them.”

“Thank you,” she says again.

“Just don’t forget about me while you’re gone. Find a way to get letters to me.”

She nods vigorously. “I’ll send yours in with the ones for the guys. All my stuff from the Garrison has already been going to Anthony’s house, so his parents know not to throw away letters with the name ‘Gunderson’ on them.”

“Wonderful,” Mom says with a slight laugh, and they separate from their hug. Katie sits on the bed next to her.

An idea forms in her mind. “I think you’d like Anthony’s parents. If you want to meet them, they help with a lot of community programs and are always looking for more volunteers. You know, if you’re interested.”

“Just let me know when and where the next one is. That would be a nice thing to start doing.”

Katie grins at her. “I will.”

Mom lets them sit for a moment in silence before standing up and crossing the room. She pauses at the door. “Want to watch a movie tonight? I’ve got ice cream in the freezer.”

Her smile widens. “I’ll be down as soon as I finish up with this.”

***

“Would you like some more coffee, Katie?”

Katie picks up her cup and shakes it a little, hearing a faint slosh inside. “I’ll make a fresh pot.”

“Thank you.” Pam smiles at her and sits back down in her chair. The secretary has been on the phone most of the morning, because as school draws closer more parents seem to remember their office exists. Katie could disappear to the computer lab to do her work without the distraction of Pam’s one-sided conversation, but she finds she doesn’t much like the quiet. Pam’s voice is smooth and comforting.

Katie rinses the carafe and fills it in the sink. Then she measures out the coffee grounds and sets the pot to brew. The machine grunts and hums while it works.

“Mr. Jones doesn’t have anything else for me to do once I finish this last project,” Katie begins. “So tomorrow will probably be my last day. I’m almost done with it.”  
Pam’s fingers halt on her keyboard. “I’ll be sorry to see you go. You’ve been such a pleasure to work with, Katie.”

“You too, Pam.”

“Remind me of where you said you’re going to school this fall,” she says, and Katie grimaces slightly at the memory of telling Pam she was going to the Garrison, and how later that day her own stupidity had gotten her hit by a van.

“Uh--there’s this private school up in northern California,” Katie lies. She and her mom have ironed out the details by now. “It’s a magnet school for techies. I’m really excited.”

Pam blinks, because even if she can’t remember what exactly Katie said before, she knows that’s not it. “When do you leave?”

“In about a week and a half.”

“Really? That’s so soon.”

“I know. Summer has gone by really fast, hasn’t it?”

Pam looks solemnly at her computer like she wants to say more. “I’ll bring you in something special for lunch tomorrow, for your last day.”

Katie pours coffee into both their cups, and screws the lid back on hers before moving away from the counter. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t, but I want to.” She accepts the coffee from Katie’s outstretched hand. “You’re such a special kid, Katie. Truly. I hope you know that.”

“Thanks,” Katie says uncomfortably.

“Do you like peanut butter brownies?”

“Yeah. I love peanut butter _and_ brownies, so putting them together is, like, my favorite.” She sits back down at her chair and takes a sip of coffee.

The phone starts ringing and Pam puts on hand on it. “I have a family recipe you’ll love.” She picks up the phone and answers it with the usual greeting.

Katie returns to her work.

A few minutes later, someone buzzes at the main door. Katie looks up and sees her friends waiting outside. “I’ve got it,” she says to Pam, and hops up to walk over and let them in before Pam can press the button to open the electronic lock.

She holds the door open so they can walk in. “What’s up, guys?”

Anthony pulls an envelope out of his pocket, folded in half so it will fit.

Katie’s stomach drops. It’s her exam results. “Let’s go out into the lobby.”

The boys follow her out of the office, and she takes a seat on a sofa just on the other side. She takes the envelope from Anthony with shaking hands.

“So this is it, right?” Sandy asks, sitting next to her. He watches the letter with undisguised eagerness. “This has your results.”

“Open it.” Jacob drops to the ground in front of her, legs crossed. Anthony does the same, and Katie notices the careful space he leaves between them.

“Yeah, open it.”

“I need to prepare myself. This is kind of huge, you know?”

Anthony taps her knee. “Well hurry up and prepare yourself. It took all my willpower not to rip that thing open when my mom handed it to me this morning.”

“It’s a federal offense to open someone else’s mail,” Jacob points out. Anthony elbows him lightly.

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t, isn’t it?”

“It’s going to be okay, Katie,” Sandy whispers, seeing the dread on her face.

She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I know it will.”

Katie slides a finger under one edge and pries it open as best she can. It tears poorly, and halfway down she gives up and rips the paper free. Now that she’s come this far she can’t wait any longer. She unfolds the page and reads aloud:

“Pidge Gunderson, the results from your placement exam on Saturday, August blah blah blah… your test showed an aptitude for technology and mechanics…okay...are delighted to inform you that you have been placed in _tier three training to study as a communications officer_.”

Katie sits back and lets her hand fall limply to her lap. The boys are celebrating, but Katie’s shaking her head.

“No, no. _No_. That’s not good enough,” she whimpers. “Third year’s not good enough.”

Sandy sobers up and sits back down next to her. “Why not? That’s amazing.

“I don’t care about amazing. I care about getting into space--third tier puts me four years away from that.”

“Pidge,” Jacob says. She ignores him.

“Maybe I can get through this year and be the best in the simulator and then retest so I can--”

“ _Pidge. Escúchame_.” His voice is firm enough that Katie stops and looks at him through her desperation.

“What?”

“You got into the Garrison, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I knew that a month ago, but--”

“Which means you have access to the grounds and anything they’re hiding there, ¿si?”

“Yeah. With a little hacking, I do. You’re right.”

Anthony’s hand finds her knee again, and he actually rests his chin on it and looks up at her. “You can focus on finding evidence this year. Get enough to expose them, and then they’ll have to do something.”

“Okay. Snooping. I can do that.”

“Yeah you can.” Anthony claps his palm on her knee once and stands. “Well, we’ve gotta get back. I wasn’t supposed to leave the house empty because I’ve got the oven on.”

Jacob pushes to his feet as well. “Ooh, what’s for dinner, honey?”

Anthony’s eyes go wide for the moment before he realizes it’s a joke. “Pot roast. And there’s no way in hell I’d be the wife in our relationship.”

“Dude. I literally have a job and you’re staying home and making food. What is more wifey than that?”

“Hey, how about you stop applying gender stereotypes to us? We’re our own people.”

“You’re the one who assumed you’d be the wife because I called you honey and asked what was for dinner.”

“Well--you’re stupid!”

“Impressive comeback, man.”

Katie and Sandy share a look. She wonders if he knows that Anthony has a crush on his friend, or if he’s just as oblivious as Jacob is. Probably, he is. Katie has a knack for picking up on this stuff before anything else. Maybe it’ll come in handy somehow at the Garrison.

“Bye, Katie,” Sandy says, leaning away from the swat-war Anthony and Jacob have gotten into. “I’ll make sure they don’t break anything on the way out.”

“Thanks, Sandy. I’ll see you at the gym tonight.”

She shows them out the front, and even manages to get a wave goodbye from Anthony and Jacob between their bickering.

“Bye, Pidge!”

“Adiós, pigeon!”

Katie shakes her head at the trio and finds her way back to her computer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. JUST. LOVE. MAMA. HOLT. SO. MUCH. The things she does for her family are amazing. She deserves so much better than what she gets.  
> And I love the boys just as much because they are cinnamon rolls, all of them.  
> Only one more chapter and an epilogue, everyone! What do you think--should I post the last two things together? The epilogue isn't very long and I'd feel bad making you wait until Tuesday to read it. But let me know.  
> As always, every kudos and comment warms my heart.
> 
> Spanish:  
> escúchame = listen to me


	11. I'm Going to MIss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katie adds the final touches to her new identity, and takes Pidge out for a test run.

She holds the glasses like they’ll bite her.

What possessed her to get these ones is still a mystery. She should have chosen different ones, because these are a painful reminder of Matt that she’ll see every morning. But maybe that’s better, because they will remind her of why she’s there. She has to get them back at any cost--Katie would go to the edges of the galaxy and beyond for her family.

She unfolds the arms on her new glasses and slides them onto her face, looking in the mirror as she does so. Her hair is already pulled back and stowed into a hat, so the reflection she sees is not Katie.

It’s Pidge.

He’s wearing a button-up tee in green and orange plaid, and dark gray cargo shorts with an absurd number of pockets. The bridge of his glasses rests on the remnants of a scar, and his eyes are brown and determined.

He sniffs once at the reflection and turns away.

Pidge pulls the phone out of his pocket and types out a text message to Jacob. The boys should already be on their way, but he wants to make sure. A response pings in riddled with typos because he’s on his board, but Pidge gets the idea.

When he comes downstairs, Mrs. Holt is at the kitchen table sorting through papers. She’s let herself get behind on too many things in the last eight months, and Pidge can see that she’s not sure where to begin again. The small video screen in the wall plays on a low volume, running the afternoon news. It fills the kitchen in a way the silence never did, and Pidge thinks with a smile how much he’s missed its noise.

Mrs. Holt looks up at the sound of his approach, and when her eyes find Pidge, surprise lifts her features. “Is this…?”

“Pidge.”

“Did you cut your hair already?”

“No, I haven’t,” Pidge admits. “I won’t be able to until we’re sure I won’t see any more family.”

Mrs. Holt nods. “Your oma is coming over the night before you leave. You know that?”

“Yeah. So it’s going to be pretty last minute.” Pidge shrugs. “It doesn’t have to look good. It just has to be boyish.”

Mrs. Holt purses her lips and looks down at her papers again. She’s gotten a haircut recently, and it’s shorter than Pidge remembers it being. A new style, too.

“You… uh… your Pidge looks good. I mean, you look good as Pidge. You--uh. You get it.”

Pidge laughs aloud. “I know. It’s confusing for me, too.” He doesn’t let the extend of just _how_ confused he is into his voice. “But thanks. I’m headed out with the guys this afternoon--we’re going to test out how convincing I am.”

“Ah. Well, be home for dinner. I’m ordering pizza.”

“Pizza? Wouldn’t miss it for the world. See you later.”

He waves goodbye and goes to meet the boys outside.

They roll downs the street with grins on their faces. “Pidge!” Anthony calls out. “Grab your bike, bro.”

He unlocks his bicycle from its place at the fence and swings one leg over the seat. The other three barely have to slow down for Pidge to join them. “So what’s the plan for today, guys?” he asks. The late July heat hits him hard, and he can already feel the sweat starting at the edge of his hat and underneath his binder.

Jacob propels himself forward with the scrape of his shoe against pavement. “We’re going to the skate park. Hay muchas personas allí con que podrías hablar--just make sure to keep your hat on.”

Pidge looks askance at Sandy, who says to him: “There are lots of people to talk to there.”

“Ah. Got it.” He can pick up on simple Spanish phrases now, but he’s far from able to fully communicate. “Which park?”

“The one a few blocks from my place,” Anthony says.

They talk and ride at the same time, and Pidge notices the slight difference in how the boys act around him now. They joke with him just as much as each other, and don’t pull back on curse words like they sometimes did with Katie. Though it’s not a huge difference, it’s enough to make Pidge feel like he’s really one of the boys now.

The skate park is rusted around the edges, and nearly every surface is decorated with graffiti. Wheels grind over concrete and metal, punctuated by the clanging of jumps failed or succeeded.

A boy in roller blades who looks to be a few years older than Pidge skids himself to a halt in front of the group. He’s got skin almost as dark as Anthony’s, and a nose wide and flat enough that Pidge sees the inside of his nostrils from straight on. There’s a fresh scrape on his cheek and chin, probably from an impressive wipe out earlier today. “This the new guy you were telling us about?”

“Sí,” Jacob replies, and pulls him into an easy bro hug. “Pidge, meet my peer mentor, Oshea.”

“Good to meet you, man,” Oshea says, extending and arm to Pidge. He notices that Oshea’s palm is scraped up as well, but takes it and shakes his hand firmly.

“You too.”

“I follow your blog on tumblr. Your shitposts are fucking hilarious.”

Pidge grins. “Thanks.” He hikes a thumb over his shoulder at Jacob. “Sorry you got stuck mentoring _this_ guy.”

Oshea laughs aloud and Pidge hears Jacob’s groan of offense from behind him. “At least he’s entertaining.”

“That’s a nice word for it,” Anthony chimes in.

“Wow. I hate all of you right now.” Jacob rolls away on his board. The rest of them follow close behind, and Pidge is thankful that he’s had some experience in skate parks in recent months because of his new friends. His first few attempts at even the simplest tricks on his bike ended spectacularly badly. He has more scars from those outings than he does from getting hit by the van.

Today, he makes it through without falling off his bike or forgetting to be a boy once. Everyone he talks to accepts who he is without a second glance. A girl even tries to flirt with him, which ends in Pidge’s being baffled and uncomfortable and Anthony’s unending amusement. It’s Sandy who saves him, pulling him back toward the halfpipe before he can topple sideways from his bike.

Pidge is back home in time for dinner. Pulling away the pieces of himself that make him a boy feels strange because he’s so comfortable in them already. When Katie stares back at him from the mirror, Pidge has to blink a few times to settle back into the old identity.

She wipes sweat away from her forehead and shakes out her hair. Lets herself lay face up on her bed, feeling the events of the day sink into her. It hardly feels real, but somehow she knows what today means.

Pidge is ready.

***

Katie lets Oma drag her into one last hug and waves goodbye. The good part about her grandmother having to take a cab to get to their house now is that once it arrives, she has to leave instead of staying for another half an hour. Maybe Katie should savor the time she has left with her Oma, because it will be months before she sees her again, but after an evening under her constant critique dissolved that sentiment if there had been any to begin with.

She changes gratefully out of her leggings and long-sleeved shirt, exchanging them for a simple pair of athletic shorts and a printed tee.

“I have to go say goodbye to the guys before tomorrow,” Katie tells her mother once she gets back downstairs. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Alright,” Mom replies. She looks like she needs some time to recover from her mother as much as Katie does. “I’ll see you later.”

Katie bikes over to Jacob’s apartment in the fading light. It’s still hot as hell, but at least without the sun directly overhead the temperature has dropped a few degrees. She texts Jacob when she’s outside the front door and waits to be let in.

“Hola,” Jacob says when he opens the door. There’s a popsicle in his hand and he’s trying to look excited, but Katie can tell his mood is heavy. They all know what tonight is. “The others are upstairs already.”

She follows Jacob up the stairs and down the hall. The apartment door is unlocked, and inside Anthony and Sandy sit on the couch sucking on popsicles of their own, nearly finished, and Jacob grabs one out of the freezer for Katie. She unwraps it as she sits down next to Sandy while Jacob takes his place by Anthony. She licks at the grape flavoring.

Sandy speaks first.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Subtle,” Jacob taunts halfheartedly.

Katie swallows purple juice. “Yeah. I can’t believe it’s so close.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to be so close and we won’t be able to come see you.” The tip of Sandy’s nose is pink, like he’s trying not to cry. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you guys, too,” Katie says. It’s neither a whisper nor her normal voice, but it’s all she can manage. She stares down at her popsicle. “I know--I know you say that boys aren’t supposed express their feelings, so I’m going to talk to you guys as Katie right now. I--”

“Fuck that,” Jacob blurts. His voice is thick. “If I’m not going to see you for five months, my feelings deserve to be expressed. All of ours do.”

Katie blinks. “Oh--okay.”

“You’re crazy,” he says, almost angrily. His eyes are filled with tears. “You have the guts to do stuff I couldn’t do in a million years and some days I’m not sure if I want to be you or fight you or both, but no matter what you’ll always be like a sister to me. And a brother. And--” Jacob chokes on his words. “And I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want things to change. I want it to be like this forever. It fucking _sucks_.”

Anthony sniffles a little and puts his arm around Jacob, a red-stained popsicle stick held loosely in one hand. He looks over at Katie. “Do you want me to tell her?” he asks quietly. The tenderness in his voice nearly breaks her.

“Tell me what?”

Jacob looks up at her. “My mom got the job she applied for. We’re moving the week school starts.”

Katie’s stomach drops. “That’s--that’s great for her. Wow.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Jacob admits. A tear drips down his cheek and catches in one of the little hairs that’s grown in since the last time he shaved. “I want us to all go to high school together. Because--because… tengo miedo. And we protect each other.”

He lets his head fall onto Anthony’s shoulder, and Anthony pulls him closer. “Estará bien, Jacob.”

Katie hears Anthony’s pain at his best friend, the boy he’s had a crush on for who knows how long, having to leave. She can see how hard he’s trying to hold it together even though it’s obvious that he’s falling apart. She discards her half-eaten popsicle into a cup on the side table--probably Jacob’s--and goes to squeeze herself next to Jacob on the couch. Sandy does the same but sits by Anthony.

She wishes goodbyes didn’t hurt so much.

“I’m going to apply to the Garrison next year,” Sandy says suddenly. They all look over at him. “I probably won’t get in, but--I want to try. Do you think I could borrow some of your textbooks to study from?”

Katie nods, brushing her tears away. “Of course. And if you want me to help you next summer--I absolutely will. I’d love to have a friendly face out there.”

Sandy sucks away the last of his popsicle. “Good. And think of how cool I’ll be if I have a friend in fourth year when I show up.”

“I still can’t believe you made it to third tier,” says Anthony, one hand still rubbing Jacob’s back absently. “My dad did a job with the electricals out at the Garrison last year and he told me how fucking insane that place is. You practically have to be a genius to even get in.”

Katie pulls a loose strand of hair from her ponytail. “I guess I had a leg up on the competition--I’ve basically been studying for this since I was four.”

A small grin stretches across Anthony’s face. Somehow he’s crying now, too. All of them are. “Just don’t forget about us while you’re out there, okay? I know we’re going to see you in the headlines in no time, but remember to keep us little guys in mind while you’re doing it.”

“I would never forget you. And same goes for you guys--if you don’t respond to my letters I will _personally_ come kick your asses.”

“Pidge,” Jacob responds, some of the twinkle back in his eyes, “If you’re trying to get us to reply to your letters, that’s not the way to do it. You could kick my ass and I would thank you.”

Katie shoves his arm. “Fuck off. You know what I mean.”

“Sí, yo sé.” Jacob reaches an arm around her, and Anthony stretches his arms out to include both of them and Sandy on his other side. “It’s going to be weird without you here, little pigeon.”

“How have we only known you for two months?” Anthony asks aloud. “It feels like forever.”

Jacob lets out a low whistle and Katie nods. Sandy looks down at his hands.

“I know.” Katie leans back onto Jacob’s arm. “This whole year has been so crazy. I don’t think _anything_ could top what’s already happened.”

“Don’t say that!” Sandy cries. “You’ll curse it.”

Anthony ruffles his hair. “So superstitious.”

“Karma’s a bitch,” he says matter-of-factly.

Katie’s jaw drops and Jacob “Oh”s loudly. “You can swear after all!” Anthony exclaims.

Sandy rolls his eyes. “Cállate.”

“I’m so proud,” Anthony sobs dramatically. The red rims on his eyes sell the image but the smile on his face fails. “Our little Sandy is growing up.”

“Don’t forget Pidge,” Jacob adds and puts a hand on Katie’s head to match Anthony’s on Sandy. “I think we raised ‘em right.”

“You’re barely five months older than I am,” Katie says, indignant.

“Five very important months,” he replies. Katie shakes her head to rid herself of Jacob’s hand.

“Whatever.”

His arm falls back around her shoulder, and they all sit there for a few moments, contemplating the last two months. Katie thinks of how suspicious Jacob was of her, how quiet Sandy was, and how Anthony seemed more afraid of himself than he is now. She still isn’t sure if he’s admitted who he is to himself or anyone else, but knows that someday he will and find a man or woman to love him as much as he will them. It probably won’t be Jacob for any number of reasons, but Katie hopes she’s there the day Anthony tells him he had a crush on him for most of their childhood. The look on his face will be priceless, and she knows that by the time Anthony gets around to it, Jacob will be the kind of man that accepts a person for who they are and not their labels.

Even if Katie can’t be here to see that transition, or finish growing up with them, she has every intention of being there for them when she can. Maybe that will be a few years down the road, and maybe even longer than that if she gets to search for what happened to her family.

But she will be back for them, and for her mother, no matter what.

Katie sighs deeply and lets her head fall back onto the couch behind her. “I love you guys.”

Jacob stiffens slightly before pulling her closer, and she hears Sandy’s sniffling and Anthony’s momentary pause in his breathing.

“Yeah, Pidge,” Jacob says into her hair. “We love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah, just--just go read the epilogue. I'll leave the important notes there.  
> Spanish:  
> Hay muchas personas allí con que podrías hablar = There are many people there with whom you can speak/ there are lots of people there to talk to.  
> tengo miedo = I'm scared  
> Sí, yo sé = Yes, I know


	12. Epilogue: First Day of School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final installment of Left Behind, the epilogue shows Katie's final transition into Pidge.  
> At the end of the chapter, I've written some very important notes about this story, from headcanons I snuck in there about the show and my personal goals while writing this.

Katie stands in front of the mirror in her bathroom. A pair of kitchen scissors lays next to the sink, and the crisp Garrison uniform sits heavily on her shoulders. She looks at her own reflection, and how she used to think this is how she would see herself the day she enrolled at the Galaxy Garrison.

But no, Katie doesn’t go there. Pidge does.

“First day of school,” she says to herself. “Time for a haircut.”

Her hands close around the scissor handles and the quiet hiss of the blades sliding open is the only sound. She takes a segment of hair in her free hand and holds it out from her head, and has to fight the urge to close her eyes as she squeezes the scissors shut.

She feels like the Mulan in Jacob’s version of the movie they watched together so long ago, but somehow when Mulan cut her hair it was much more glamorous. Katie has no idea what she’s doing, and as the hair she’s been growing out for years piles in her sink and she still somehow looks like Katie, fear rises in her throat.  
No. She can’t mess this up now, when she’s so close.

Katie is so distracted that she doesn’t notice when her mother walks in.

“Here,” she says, holding out her hands for the scissors. “Let me help you.”

She hands them over gratefully. “Thank you.”

“You should have just asked me.” Her mom reaches for a nearby towel and wraps it over Katie’s shoulders to protect her uniform. “I cut Matt’s hair for years because he thought our barber was too scary.”

“Yeah,” Katie says, trying to calm her nerves by closing her eyes and keeping her breathing steady. “I remember that.”

It doesn’t take long for Katie’s mother to finish. She pulls the towel from Katie’s shoulders and says, “All done” in the way Katie used to hear when she gave Matt a haircut. It hurts to think about.

She opens her eyes and sees Pidge.

But there’s one last thing that needs to be done as Katie, so Pidge turns away from the mirror.

Katie wraps her mom in one final hug. “Thank you,” she says into the fabric of her bathrobe. “I love you.”

Mom returns the hug, squeezing Katie tight. “I love you, too, Katie. So much. I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”

“I’ll miss you so much.” Katie doesn’t pull away from the hug and instead buries herself deeper into it, finding she doesn’t want to let go. “But I’ll be home soon. Just four months and I’ll be back.”

“With so many great stories to tell, I’m sure,” Mom chuckles. “I want to read about them in your letters, but it’s better to hear about it in person.”

Katie nods. “I’ll write something for you every day, like a diary,” she promises. “And when it’s mail day every other Friday, I’ll send it all to you.”

“Don’t write anything that could give you away,” her mom reminds her. “You can’t be too careful.”

“Of course,” Katie agrees. She doesn’t tell her about the single concession she’s made to her strict nothing-from-her-old life rule. It’s probably stupid to bring along, but she can’t help herself. The picture of her and Matt at the launch site is too important.

Her mom is the one that breaks the hug, and plants one last soft kiss on Katie’s cheek. “I’ll clean this up,” she offers, gesturing to the hair on the floor and in the sink. “You have a bus to catch.”

Pidge nods. It breaks him to see the tears glistening in Mrs. Holt’s eyes, but it’s time for him to go. He walks down the stairs with a sense of finality, and gathers his backpack and duffel bag from the front entryway. He pushes the door open with shaking hands and refuses to let himself look back until he’s reached the sidewalk outside. His house looks the same as it always has, but Pidge is the one that has changed. He allows himself one moment of weakness and a single tear before turning and walking away.

Pidge takes the first step of his new life and leaves Katie behind.

He is a third tier cadet at the Galaxy Garrison with special focus on training as a communications officer. Anyone he was before now is gone, because that’s how it has to be.

He is Pidge Gunderson.

***  
-end-  
***

Fic-Specific Headcanons and Tidbits, Which You Don't Have to Read but I Highly Recommend that You Do:

Have I mentioned anywhere yet that this entire fic was inspired by a tumblr post? IDK. If I haven't, here's the link: http://lissa-molloy.tumblr.com/post/147193402476/arcticfoxbear-voltron-headcannon-katie-holt-to  
___  
I imagine Voltron as happening in the future, but not super far into the future. Some things have changed from the way they are now but not enough to make it feel like a different world. Yes, the ambulances are the sort that can fly over traffic to avoid weaving through it, but kids still also have to deal with some of today’s problems surrounding gender and sexuality (though I like to think that the world will be at least a *little* more accepting in the future). Some other time-framing points include: the movie _Mulan_ was something Jacob’s grandmother saw in theaters (it had a 1998 release), though she was probably a teenager by then. The TV show “ _Leyendas_ ” that Jacob owns the first season of is set to have a premier date in 2017. Late 2000’s music was the stuff their parents grew up listening to. So I’m thinking this is all happening mid-to-late 2030s, depending on how young their parents were when they had kids.  
___  
Yes, I make every possible reference to Pidge liking peanut butter and sweating a lot. Unrelated to the peanuts.  
___  
Katie’s? Mom? Just? Goes? Through? So? Much? She deserves so much better. Part of Katie encouraging her mom to reach out to Anthony’s family is to get her to start donating to good causes and being involved in the community, but it’s just as much so that she has a network of friends and connections while Katie is gone. This becomes especially helpful after Pidge disappears with the Blue Lion--instead of crumbling in on herself, Mrs. Holt will have friends that can help her through the loss of her last child. It’s very important to me that Momma Holt is okay.  
___  
Also, no, I never came up with a first name for her. Sorry. If I’m being honest, she was probably born around the same time that Voltron’s current intended audience was (how weird is that? Most of the fandom is older than team Voltron’s parents). So I wouldn’t be surprised if her name is one that’s really popular for our generation. I’m thinking Abigail or something.  
___  
This fic sets Pidge solidly on the road to realizing they’re agender/genderfluid. Many parts of the text intentionally relate to this, such as Katie noticing how the gym is split between genders and her being on the other side but still feeling alienated, how technology is better because it doesn’t care if you’re a girl or a boy, and towards the end how the narrative states outright that Katie is very confused about many things surrounding her identity. Pidge is also asexual and aromantic in my headcanon, so I make several references to that as well.  
___  
Katie’s older brother, Matt, I headcanon as gay because of a post I saw on tumblr at this url: http://shiroshusband.tumblr.com/post/146634538870/ok-but-imagine-matt-got-a-file-that-contained-info. He has a crush on Shiro (because, really, who wouldn’t? Have you *seen* him?) but never acts on it because he is a.) too professional, at least on the job and b.) he doesn’t think he’d have a chance with Shiro anyway.  
___  
I have no idea what song Sandy pulled up on his phone to play for their mall montage. Sorry.  
___  
Anthony is absolutely bisexual. He’s had a crush on Jacob since the third grade when Jacob kissed a girl and Anthony realized he wanted to be the one kissing Jacob, not her. But Jacob is just about as straight as the come, so he’s kept quiet about his sexuality for years and mostly closeted himself. The post that inspired this fanfiction mentioned Katie leaving a trail of broken hearts in her wake, and my original intention was for all three of the guys to have a crush on her, but as I developed my OCs I realized that this would not be the case.  
___  
Sandy is the only one who ended up with a crush on Katie, and he’s not the most outspoken of people so the only hints of this are “I like Katie better [than Pidge]” and how when it comes to her, he’s always more able to speak. His satisfaction at having come up with the name “Pidge” and that Katie chose his backpack over the others the day they went shopping only fuel that fire. Katie is at least 35% of his motivation for wanting to join the Garrison the following year.  
___  
Anthony is the oldest of them, with barely a month on Jacob. Katie’s birthday is five months later, during the winter (meaning Pidge goes into space as a fourteen year old as the creators say, but will turn fifteen soon), and Sandy’s is the last in the summer time. He probably *could* have been in the same grade as the other three, but he would have been the youngest in his class by almost three weeks and his parents had him wait another year.  
___  
I am 173% on board with the Pidge is a Memelord trend, so I make a few references to this, i.e. Katie finding it easiest to use memes while constructing Pidge’s online presence, and Oshea mentioning Pidge’s tumblr blog and how great his shitposts are. Will tumblr survive into the 2030s? Will meme culture? No one knows. But for the sake of this fanfic, the answer is yes.  
___  
I like to think that Pidge picks up enough Spanish from being around Jacob that they *know* that Lance’s badmouthing Keith is actually really dirty Spanish flirting. Because a.) Pidge Knows All is one of my favorite headcanons and b.) so is Lance Flirts with Keith in Spanish Because He’s Not Brave Enough to do it in English but Still Thinks Keith is Really Fucking Hot.  
___  
Pidge swears like a sailor I will fight you on this  
___  
Yes Katie and the Crew™ observe Lance and Hunk, and Anthony thinks Lance is attractive. Because let’s be real, he is. The reason Lance and Hunk are back from their respective homes so early in summer (Lance in Cuba and Hunk in Hawaii, my island Brotp) is because they both need to work to help pay for tuition at the Garrison. They have jobs on the grounds, probably as grunts for the custodial staff and groundskeepers, and whatever else they’re needed for.  
___  
Pidge is (depending on your definition) probably the only white person (human, because otherwise we could include Coran) on team Voltron, and that and the fact that Katie grew up surrounded by the Garrison and its affairs would have given a very different experience with the world than most of the others. I don’t know how much money astronauts make in a year, but I bet it’s hella, and there’s probably so much life insurance/bribe money going to Katie’s mom after half of the Holt family gets lost in space that it would never have occurred to Katie that money was an obstacle for some people. So the juxtaposition of Katie’s privilege and the daily life of her friends (who are minorities, because cities are full of diverse people and it would be unrealistic for her to just *happen* to find white friends) needed to be pointed out. However, I (the author) am a white person who has led a relatively privileged life so I cannot claim to truly know the struggles of anyone who has not had the same opportunities as I have. I remember someone talking about how to write diverse characters, and it went a little something like this: “Write characters who are [minorities], but unless you are one yourself, don’t write about what is is like to *be* a [minority]”, and I’ve tried to stay true to that here.  
___  
Katie’s original motivation to switch from glasses to contacts was because it would help with her disguise, of course. When she switched to contacts at age ten it was her grandmother’s idea--“glasses aren’t feminine enough”, she said, and somehow that woman manages to be inspirational in all the ways that would make her traditional-gender-role-oriented head spin. But Pidge is really lucky that they ended up with glasses in space, because there would be no contact solution or replacement lenses to be found out there and that would just *suck*. Although I do think that their helmet adjusts to improve their vision because they never wear their glasses with the helmet on. But I digress.  
___  
I realize now that Andrea gets mentioned in the second chapter as Pam’s potential stand in while she takes her kids to the zoo, and then is never brought up again. She’s probably a secretary at one of the other buildings in the district and usually only works during the school year, so that’s why Katie never ends up working with her later in the fic.  
___  
Katie is actually very bitter toward Takashi Shirogane after the Kerberos mission disappears. She *knows* that pilot error didn’t cause them to crash--and by the time she breaks into the Garrison she knows that they didn’t crash at all--but part of her still harbors resentment toward him because her blame has to go somewhere and all the media outlets (and the government itself) are telling her that that’s where it belongs. It isn’t until they’re out in space and Shiro tells the story about protecting Matt from the arena that Pidge can fully discard this bitterness and accept him as Space Dad™.  
___  
Dammit I just hate Commander Iverson so much why is he such an asshole  
___  
In the original plot, I was going to have Katie pick a fight with some drunk guys after getting banned from the Garrison, but that didn’t work out because a.) it was like 6PM no one is drunk enough to beat up a little girl by that time, b.) the streets would also be too busy still if it was that early, and c.) that’s a cliché, really, and I didn’t feel like writing that.  
___  
I really wanted to get to introduce you all to the boys’ respective families, but I honestly just ran out of time because the rest of the plot was moving so fast. However, I can tell you now that Jacob has an older sister who’s away at college and two younger siblings (a boy and a girl), along with his mother. When his dad left, he felt like he had to become the Man of the House, and takes that role very seriously, as shows through a little in the fic. He’s still confused about what he *thinks* makes him a good man (or a “real man” as he says), but with the help of his friends he will figure it out soon. Sandy is the oldest in his family (four younger siblings) and we get the idea that his dad is very harsh on him--and that's the case. But he's not just harsh, though. He's abusive, but Sandy won’t tell anyone that for a long time. His mom is just as quiet as he is. Anthony has a twin sister (Katie reminds him of her somehow, so he sees her as a sister immediately) and a set of parents who are great role models for him.  
___  
Each of the boys’ reactions to meeting Katie for the first time are very telling of the kind of lives they’ve led. Just go back and read that scene and think about that for a while.  
___  
A small excerpt from my plot because I want you to feel my pain: “The Picture with Matt: She carries it everywhere. It was taken days before Matt left for Kerberos, and there is a flashback scene from when it was taken. Bonus points if I want to cry when I write it because he promises that those months will just fly by. She won’t even notice he’s gone.” Because irony and torture, that’s why.  
___  
You know what else is irony and torture? Anthony saying he knows he’s going to see Pidge in the headlines someday soon. Because he *is* and it’s not going to be for anything good. Just think about he and Jacob and Sandy will react when they hear the three cadets have gone missing from the Garrison (and presumed dead, because there’s no way the government would let the public know they flew away in a giant space lion). Just think of how much it will hurt them, because even though they only knew Katie for a few months reading that headline will feel like a piece of themselves has been ripped out.  
___  
Okay so I’m done now. I have a lot of feelings about Katie Holt and Pidge Gunderson and everyone in their life so just. I’m done now. Thank you all so much for reading, and please, please, share this with your friends if you enjoyed it. I put a lot of time and effort into this, and I feel like Pidge does not get enough attention in the fandom despite the fact that they are such a multifaceted character with so much to offer.


	13. The Holiday They Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, bitches.  
> I bet you thought I was done with this story--and I am, mostly. But what's happening back on Earth over the holiday season while Team Voltron is out defending the universe?

Anthony tears open the bag of potato chips and upends it into the large bowl on the table. He shakes it a little to get the last of the crumbs and salt crystals out, and then crumples the bag and tosses it in the trash.

“Anna, is there another bag of these?” he asks as he shakes the bowl to even the pile.

His sister crosses the room to the grocery bags hidden underneath the table and fishes around for a while. “Nope. We have Doritos though.”

“If I mix them, Justine's kids are going to throw a fit.”

“Hmm. Fair.” Anna pushes the bag back underneath the counter and stands. “Mom said she was going to be back around one with grandma, so we’re mostly in charge of set-up. Is Sandy coming?”

“Yeah.” Anthony presses the crease out of a red-and-green patterned tablecloth. “He should be here any minute. Jacob too.”

Anna’s eyes light up. “He could make it up here so close to the holiday?”

“Yeah. His mom let him borrow her car to drive up here.”

Footsteps pound down the stairs. “So either he’ll be here or he’ll be in a ditch,” Sandy calls out as the stairwell spits him out into the church basement. He’s gotten almost two inches taller since this summer, but if anything his acne has gotten worse.

“He swore to me that he could drive here on his own,” Anthony counters, and points his friend over to start opening and setting out the plastic dinnerware once he’s set down his textbooks. “He’s had his license for more than a month now.”

“That’s still weird.”

“Someone come help me with these potatoes!” his dad calls from the church kitchen. The twins share a silent argument, and then Anna rolls her eyes and stalks into the other room.

“Once any of my friends show up, we’re switching.”

“Love you, sis,” Anthony calls after her with a smile. Once she’s gone, he turns to Sandy. “What’s the book today?”

Sandy glances over at the textbook with a grimace. “Still physics.”

“Do you want to practice over the break, or are you taking the holiday off?”

The other boy pauses for a moment to think, a set of silverware partially rolled into a napkin. “Probably shouldn’t. I only have seven months before the placement test and I can’t afford to lose any time. I’ll make up a list of questions for you to ask me.”

Anthony nods. He knows he’s no replacement for _her_ in helping Sandy study to get into the Garrison, but he’s all the boy has left. Chances are slim that Sandy will make it past the initial application, and perhaps even slimmer that he’ll place into training, but he’s been working so hard all semester that Anthony can’t bear to leave him all alone in his pursuit.

Sandy carries Matt and Katie Holt’s old textbooks with him everywhere, reading them in spare moments and taking relentless notes. Anthony barely understands any of the review questions Sandy makes him ask, but apparently it’s helpful to have to talk through it with someone. So, he does it.

And besides--it’s nice to have an excuse to see his friend, now that they’re in separate schools. Being split between middle and high school has made it harder to get together, especially since he’s not spending half his time at Jacob’s apartment like he used to.

Jacob would help, too, if he still lived in the city.

It’s been three months since he’s last seen his best friend.

“How many sets of silverware?” Sandy looks at him with wide, questioning eyes. He keeps his hair shorter now, a side effect of not wanting to have to push it out of his face so much while he’s reading.

“May as well do the whole box. They’ll get used eventually.”

“No problemo.”

“I’m glad you could get the day off work. I know Tuesday is an odd day to have family Christmas.”

The boy shrugs. “No era difícil. I switched Adam for his New Year’s Day shift. And I get paid time and a half for working the holiday, so my dad couldn’t argue with it.”

“How are things at home?” He doesn’t want to darken the festive mood, but it has to be asked. “With your dad.”

One night, Sandy showed up at Anthony’s house with a black eye and bruised ribs because his father found him crying in his room. It had been the day the headlines read: three Galaxy Garrison cadets missing, presumed dead.

After that, he realized how bad his friend’s home life really was.

He spends a lot of time at Anthony’s house now.

“Fine.” Sandy doesn’t pause in his silverware-wrapping. “Our work schedules have been pretty opposite, so I’ve hardly seen him for the last few weeks.”

He doesn’t press further for more of an answer. Sandy trusts him enough to tell him things, even if he refuses to tell them to anyone else. 

Anthony reaches for the pan of brownies he made last night and nabs a fork to pry them out of the pan with, and his phone to start playing some Christmas music. It takes no more than a few seconds to connect it to the room’s speakers, and then pleasant tunes fill the silence between their conversation.

“ _And if you kiss me now, I know you’ll fool me agaaaiiiin!_ ” a voice cries from the top of the short flight of stairs, and then Jacob is dancing his way into the room. “¡Feliz navidad, mis amigos! ¿Cómo están?”

Anthony drops a brownie mid-placement on the tray and Sandy does the same with a plastic knife. The three of them meet in the middle of the room hugging as tightly as friends who haven't been together in months should.

Once, he might have felt weird being this close to Jacob. He’d taken a long time to realize that what he felt for his best friend wasn't strictly platonic, and even longer to move on from him. That's the only thing that has been easier since he moved away.

In the meantime, Anthony has made out with a handful of people at football games, and had a girlfriend for about two weeks. Mostly, though, he hangs out with Sandy, helping him study. It doesn’t leave much time for romance.

“I thought you were gonna die on the drive up here!” Anthony teases before the other boys break away from the hug. “You sure tu mamá said you could come all by yourself?”

“I'm sixteen. I can drive wherever I want.” Jacob bounces his shoulders up and down--it’s cold enough now that he wore a sweater for the drive, and it hangs loosely off his body--and crosses his arms like he’s big and tough.

Sandy gasps. “You did _not_ drive here without telling her.”

“¡Claro que no!” Jacob laughs. “She even gave me gas money for the drive, and told me to bring her home some leftovers for dinner.”

Their youngest friend looks relieved, which only draws another laugh.

“I’ll save out a piece of my meatloaf for her,” Anthony offers, returning to his brownie arranging. “I dare say it’s going to turn out _delicious._ ”

“Sounds good.” Jacob meanders around the basement for a while, pretending to straighten tablecloths and arrange chairs. He stops in front of Sandy’s things. “Santiago, this yours?”

The boy drops the last set of silverware onto the stack and turns to Jacob. He’s holding the physics textbook and flipping randomly through the pages. The pages are coated in sticky notes and pen markings in three different sets of handwriting.

“Technically it’s Mrs. Holt’s. But she lets me borrow all the books I need to study for the Garrison.”

Jacob swallows when he hears her name. “Oh. It’s good that you’re still studying. It would be really cool if you got in.”

“I’m going to get in,” Sandy says with conviction. His hand brushes his temple like he’s trying to move hair away, but it’s too short to fall across his forehead anymore. “For me, and for her.”

The last few notes of a song fade out, and there is a moment of silence.

“To… honor her memory?”

Jacob wasn’t there to mourn with the others when she disappeared. Or… died. Or whatever it is that happened to her--Anthony still can’t believe that she’s really gone. Maybe her relentless belief that her family was alive is fueling his own denial. And Sandy’s.

“To find out what really happened.” Sandy bites his lip. Jacob closes the physics book and places it slowly back down on the table. “They couldn’t even find their _bodies_ , Jacob. Doesn’t that sound strange to you? And what about that comet, from the night before the cadets went missing? They’re connected, I know it.”

Anthony is done placing brownies. He leaves the pan forgotten on the serving table and goes to join his friends a few feet away. Doesn’t speak because he needs to hear what Jacob will say to this. 

“And even if--even if she is--if she’s dead, yo tengo que saber. And I have to find out what happened to her family because Mrs. Holt, she needs to know too. Or she’ll never get closure.”

Jacob stares down at the cover of the textbook in front of him, muscles in his jaw working. He blinks once, then twice, and then more rapidly, over and over. He sniffs in through his nose, and Anthony realizes that he’s _crying_.

Oh.

He’s around the table in three steps, and places his hand lightly on Jacob’s shoulder. Feels how it shakes under his grip.

“What if you get hurt, too?”

Jingle bells float through the air. Jacob’s hands curl into fists at his sides.

“What if she found something out that they didn’t want her to--and they killed her to keep her quiet, and her crew? We’re the ones who got her in--isn’t it our fault that she’s gone?” Jacob’s words are thick with snot and tears. Anthony wonders if he got the chance to properly cry when he’d heard the news. Pidge Gunderson’s name in the headlines in the worst way.

“I don’t--” Sandy’s lip quivers, and Anthony has to push down his own tears. “I don’t know. But if it is, I have to try even harder to find the truth. It’s what she would have wanted.”

“No, no, this is all wrong!” Anthony growls at the words, wanting to scream it but knowing that if he does his sister and father will burst into the room and that’s the last thing he wants. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this! She’s supposed to be here, with us! We’re supposed to drink hot chocolate and talk about school and make new plans and just… it’s _wrong_.” He lets his head drop to Jacob’s shoulder, nose pressing into the knitted fabric.

“I miss her,” Sandy admits. It’s the first time any of them have said it out loud. He sits heavily into one of the chairs.

Jacob takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I miss her, too.”

“Yeah.” Anthony squeezes his eyes shut. “Me too.”

They’re lucky that no one walks in then, on their little cry-session. They need the moment to grieve for the friend with whom they should have been celebrating.

Pidge Gunderson had been three months into his training. He’d sent letters every week to his friends in the city, telling them about his work in school and using coded language to tell them of any research “progress”. He’d been close to something in his last letter, and thought he might have been closer if not for the persistence of his pilot in team bonding. Pidge _swore_ that by the next week, he’d have enough evidence to release to the media.

Four days later, Pidge was gone.

Sandy has never believed that the disappearance was an accident. But the idea that the Garrison would kill not just one but three of their own cadets--it means that the secret they’re hiding is big. Massive. And if _Katie_ couldn’t uncover it, the talented, cunning, brilliant Katie Holt… Anthony doesn’t want Sandy to put his life at risk to do the same.

But it’s not his choice. It’s Sandy’s.

“We have to, uh. We have to finish setting up.” Anthony stands up straight and wipes snot from his nose. “Before people get here.”

“Right,” Jacob agrees. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” He looks Sandy in the eye as he says it, so it’s obvious that he means more than just the luncheon setup.

“Find a bowl to put the Doritos in,” suggests Anthony.

Jacob looks over to the table. “Can’t you just put them in with the potato chips?”

“Not unless you want to get murdered by a bunch of eight-year-olds,” Anna replies, walking back into the room with a giant metal pot in her hands. The steam rising out of it fogs her glasses. “Glad you could make it, Jacob.”

If there’s any evidence left of their tears, Anna doesn’t comment. She’s a good sister like that.

“Me too.”

Jacob clears a spot for Anna to set the mashed potatoes down on as the first few members of their family arrive. Anthony’s house hasn’t been big enough to accommodate their extended family for as long as he can remember, but only last year did they finally give up and move it elsewhere.

He gives out the compulsory hugs and points them all toward the long tables by the wall to put their food offerings on. Soon, they’re loaded with all the traditional holiday foods and the room smells heavenly. His grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and close family friends fill the basement with chatter and holiday cheer.

“Mrs. Holt,” Anthony greets her as she walks in. He takes the pie from her hands and places it onto the table while she slides the light jacket off of her shoulders. “Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t really your holiday.”

She smiles, making crinkles around her eyes. “I’ll celebrate friends and family no matter the occasion. I really appreciate you inviting me.”

Anthony shrugs. “If I didn’t, my parents would have anyway. They like you best out of their regular volunteer group.” His eyes widen as soon as it’s out of his mouth. “But don’t tell anyone I said that! We’re not supposed to play favorites.”

Mrs. Holt’s head tilts back a little as she laughs. Her short hair falls back from her forehead. “My lips are sealed.”

“Oh! I have something for you.” Anthony digs a hand into his pocket, and then pulls it back out with a small mesh bag in his grasp. “I read that chocolate coins are a pretty big Chanukah thing. They have another name but I forgot it.”

“Gelt,” Mrs. Holt supplies as she accepts the gift. The overhead lights glint off the golden foil in the bag before her fingers curl around it. “Thank you, Anthony. This means a lot.”

He bites his lip. “We wanted to make sure you weren’t alone for the holidays. I know you’ve got your mom and all, but… you’re like family to us.”

Tears glisten in Mrs. Holt’s eyes as she pulls him into a hug. “Merry Christmas,” she says.

“Happy Chanukah,” he replies.

Two more sets of arms wrap around them, and Mrs. Holt extracts her arms so she can hug Sandy and Jacob as well.

“Thank you,” she tells the three of them. “You’re like family to me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope that your holiday season is fantastic, and that you find peace and happiness.
> 
> Some Spanish translation:  
> No problemo = No problem  
> No era difícil = It wasn't difficult  
> Feliz navidad, mis amigos. ¿Cómo están? = Merry Christmas, my friends. How are you?  
> ¡Claro que no! = Of course not!


End file.
